Supergirl and The LSH: A New Generation
by Dylan Clearbrook
Summary: Supergirl and the Legion of Super-Heroes in the Continuum Worlds Multivere Universe
1. Chapter 1

_**Supergirl 3000 A.D.**_

_**A New Generation**_

_**Part 1**_

_**© Dylan Clearbrook**_

**Themyscira, Earth**

**2984 A.D.**

It was a scene from a nightmare.

The battle had been brief…and utterly silent.

Though her acolytes had fought bravely…they now lay strewn around the room, dead or dying.

Magalla teetered on the edge of darkness, fighting to remain conscious. She had to know…had to discover some hint of the attackers identities. And how they had so mysteriously appeared within the depths of the Temple. And how they had masked all sound so as to prevent alerting the warrior women in the temple above. What they wanted…

"No!" Magalla croaked as blackness threatened to take her. "It cannot be!"

The leader of the attackers had removed her helmet, revealing her identity, as she moved towards the stasis unit that was the central piece of equipment in this particular room. It was clear what she wanted.

"It is too soon!" Magalla tried to protest; yet even she could not hear her own words.

The dark haired woman studied the unit for a brief moment and then simply reached in and pulled out what appeared to be a small child. The darkness clouding Magalla's eyes refused to let her discern the color of the skin.

"No." Magalla's scream, so weak even she wondered if it had been uttered aloud, was ignored as the woman stepped back and fired a mystical blast at the stasis unit…

Darkness took her.

**Metropolis, Earth**

**United Planets Enclave**

**2998 A.D.**

The morsel of food hung suspended on the fork, halfway between plate and mouth.

With an effort of will, the man at the head of the table forced his hand to complete the motion, moving the food to his mouth where he chewed slowly, thoughtfully. Stalling to collect his thoughts, he speared another piece of meat from the plate, began to lift it to his mouth…and set it back down with a sigh.

"Out of the question." He finally replied, secretly pleased that he had been able to keep his tone neutral. "We've gone over this before, Cora. You are too young."

"By whose standards?" Cora Zir-El neither shouted nor whined. Her tone was casual, as if she were merely discussing the current state of the weather. "By Earth standards or Kryptonian?"

Zir-El, the Daxamite Ambassador to Earth and the Daxamite representative on the United Planets ruling council, sighed again. Cora was, in some ways, totally untraditional. In others, she held on to tradition with a vise-like grip.

One of the ways in which she was traditional was the matter of identity. Granted it was a trait she shared with most of the House of El and the El Family in particular (The House of El consists of several smaller families gathered under the same "House".), a trait Zir himself did not share. To him, the past was the past. Nearly a thousand years of habitation of the planet Daxam made him a Daxamite. To the others, Daxamites were the previous occupants of the planet. They, and all those that descended from the enlarged citizens of Kandor were and always would be Kryptonians! The fact that the all the life forms now inhabiting Daxam were Kryptonian did tend to add strength to their traditional stand.

Of course, Cora and the majority of the House of El had good reasons to be traditionalists when it regarded identity. Both famous and infamous reasons.

"The answer is no, Cora." Zir shook his head, clearing out the images that rose up to haunt him. "I swear I should have sent you back to Daxam long ago."

"Perhaps you should have." Cora surprised him by agreeing. "But you didn't." She didn't press that. She knew why he had kept her nearby. She knew that she was almost a mirror image of her mother…a mother she had barely known before she passed away, along with hundreds and thousands of others throughout the United Planets during the Trlerian Plague.

"Father," This time Cora did hesitate before she continued. "Father, I am not asking for permission. I am simply doing you the courtesy of informing you of my decision." She placed her eating utensils on her plate and stood. "I have already applied for and been accepted at Metropolis University. I begin my classes in two weeks. Between now and then I will be moving out of the UP Enclave and taking up residence in the city near the university."

Zir-El closed his eyes.

"I will not finance this lunacy, Cora."

"I have not asked you to, father." Cora cocked her head to one side, as if Zir had uttered a non sequitur, which, in fact, he had. Though still considered a minor, by Kryptonian standards, Kryptonian law insisted that persons above the age of 15 be fully vested in any inheritance they may have. Thus, for the past six years, Cora herself had been in complete control, by law, of the inheritance left her by her mother. She was, by any standard, independently wealthy.

However, since she would be considered a minor for at least six more years, her father could, if he so chose, to petition the Kryptonian courts to have her assets frozen. He could not touch them, but he could, conceivably, keep her from accessing those funds as well. And her father was not without friends and supporters on Daxam. She had no doubt that, were he to simply request it, it would be done.

It had been that forethought that had caused her to take precautionary steps. This was not a spur of the moment decision, but rather one she had planned well for. Little by little, she had been transferring funds from Daxam, depositing them within an Earth based financial institution. It was an account that, by Earth laws, could not be touched by her father or Daxamite officials.

Would her father actually do such a thing? Truthfully, she didn't know. In the years since her mother's death, Zir-El had changed. The caring, loving person he had been, it seemed, had been another victim of the plague.

Cora could not really blame him. He had filled the void left in his life by Neona's death with his work. Throwing himself into his duties with a vengeance.

It was understandable, really. Especially since she had inadvertently discovered the true horror of the plague that had ravaged the United Planets.

It was a secret the Science Council of Daxam had uncovered…and had chosen not to reveal to the rest of the United Planets. Indeed, only because Zir was so closely involved was he informed of the findings that, since then, had been expunged from all but the most secure databases.

It had been the communiqué from the Council to their representative on Earth, Zir, that she had seen, before even he had seen it.

The plague had not been a natural phenomenon at all. But rather a deliberate attempt to wipe out an entire genetic line from Daxam.

It had been the knowledge she had gained that day that had shaped her every thought since then.

When she left the United Planet Enclave, Cora Zir-El would, indeed be listed as a student at Metropolis University. Her money had already seen to that.

But it would be Katrine Kent, a dark haired orphan from a heavy world, that entered the Sec-Pol Academy!

**Themyscira, Earth**

**2999 A.D.**

"She can stay here no longer."

Queen Troia of the Amazons bristled but held her tongue.

Seated at the grand conference table in the room behind her throne room, she started first at the captain of her guard, Artemis, and then to her most trusted advisor, Magalla.

"You would have us throw her to the wolves then?" She finally burst out, knowing she was being unfair even as she spoke the words.

"There have been four more attempts, Troia." Magalla spoke softly.

"Four more attempts we have not been able to prevent, my Queen." Artemis' face spoke volumes on her opinion of that. In all there had been nine attempts, the first of which had left Magalla so burnt and crippled that not even the Purple Ray could heal her completely. Her ravaged face still bore the scars of that attack, fifteen years earlier.

"Prevent?" Artemis snorted, her disgust at what she considered a personal failure obvious. "We have not even been aware of the attacks until they were upon us."

"My Queen, sooner or later, one of these attempts will succeed." Magalla reasoned. "We must send her away."

"Why, Magalla? Why have none of those attempts worked?" Troia leaned forward.

"Because it is her destiny, My Queen." Artemis surprised her by speaking before Magalla could answer. She turned to the captain, her raised eyebrows inviting the other to continue.

"We have done what we could, My Queen." Artemis said. "We have trained her as we can. She is, indeed a warrior."

"But?" Troia heard the word, though Artemis had not uttered it.

"But she is not an amazon." Artemis shook her head. "My Queen. Let her go. Let her go to those that have a better chance of protecting her."

"I do not see that she needs protection." Troia snapped. She knew she was being unreasonable and she hoped these two, friends and subjects for many a year, would understand and forgive her. "There have been nine attempts on her life. Yet not one…not one…has even come close to injuring her. Not even the first, when she lay in the stasis unit, unable to protect herself!"

"She was protected, Troia." Magalla shook her head as Troia turned back to her, ready to demand an explanation.

Seeing her advisors expression, Troia knew she would get no answers through any direct questions. But perhaps….

"If she has been protected thus far, what makes you believe that she will not be protected in the future?"

"Because _that_ is _not_ her destiny." Magalla answered instantly. "She can be protected only so long. The rules can be bent for a short time only."

"What rules?" Troia pounced on the wording. "Who, or what is protecting her, Magalla?"

Magalla tensed, as if it had been a question she had expected yet feared as well.

"My Queen, I cannot say." She finally admitted.

The room grew silent and finally Trio sighed.

"Very well." Troia finally admitted. "Where do we send her?"

"You know where she must go, Donna Troy!"

Troia spun in her seat at the sound of the strange, yet hauntingly familiar voice, only mildly surprised at the green glow the filled the room.

**Metropolis, North America, Earth**

**3003 AD**

"Okay people, you know the drill." Captain Maria Santel started her pre-shift briefing of her shift before detailing them to their specific duties and beats. She tapped a few commands into her compad and then glanced up and behind her on the raised stage to make sure the appropriate screen was being displayed on the large viewer behind her.

"We've had numerous reports and anonymous tips that Mano has been spotted in Metropolis." She began, speaking into the silence that had fallen as the helmeted image displayed. "How he got here, past spaceport security, is anyone's guess. If he is here. We will, of course, work on the assumption that he is somewhere in the city. Remember, if you locate him, do NOT engage. Keep him under observation and call for back up. We do not want to push him into using that destructive hand of his. If we are to take him out, it will have to be instantly." She paused as the screen blanked and shook her head. "On another note, we are still getting reports of strange occurrences with the criminal element. Most notably, we are still coming across various…persons of interest…some of which have been deposited at the front entrances of several of the precinct stations." She read her compad a moment and shook her head again. "But it looks like our mysterious helper slipped up last night." She looked up at the Sec-Pol officers gathered in front of her. "It seems some one saw something. A blond woman, flying towards the precinct, carrying an unconscious perp. The woman was dressed in a primarily red, blue, and yellow uniform."

"I would say some one has been watching to many history holos." One officer chuckled.

"Probably so." Captain Santel agreed. "Nevertheless, there is some one out there that, so far, appears to be on our side. But until we know for sure, keep your eyes peeled. The Brass is very interested in apprehending this person and finding out exactly who she…or he…is and what they want!" She closed her compad and stuffed it in the left breast pocket of her black and gray uniform. "Okay, that's it people. Check your compads for your assignments and let's get to it."

She waited as the gathered officers checked their 'pads and began to head off. She frowned as her eyes fell on the black haired trainee near the front. The officer had checked her pad and then snapped it shut in clear anger.

"A problem, Trainee?" She snapped.

"No ma'am." The trainee responded through tight lips.

"Let me guess." The Captain stepped down off the stage. "You are not happy about being assigned to the archives again."

"Permission to speak freely, Ma'am?"

Captain Santel nodded.

"I have been assigned to the archives since I got out of the Academy, Ma'am. That was six months ago. All my class mates have already been assigned training officers and have been out on the streets!"

"I am aware of that, Trainee." Santel nodded.

"Then why am I stuck in archives? Pushing buttons and answering calls for records?" The trainee's frustration was obvious. "Begging your pardon, Ma'am, but my scores in the academy were the highest of my class…" She trailed off as the captain shook her head.

"You're right, Trainee. Your scores were impressive. I've seen them." She held up a hand to stop the trainee's outburst before it occurred. "But we don't go by those scores alone. And I have seen your psych-profile." The trainee communicated her bewilderment with a mere look and Captain Santel sighed.

"Kent, you psych-profile labels you a hero. Being a hero is not bad, but out in the streets, in this line of business, being a hero can get you or your partner killed. Or both. We can't afford heroes, Kent. Yes, restricting you to the archives may seem to be a waste, but it is less of a waste than scraping your body or that of your partner off the pavement because you decide to play hero."

Santel drew herself up.

"Kent, we can change that trainee status of yours at any time." She said. "All you have to do is put in for permanent assignment to office duties and it will be approved instantly. As would a request for an assignment to a crime lab. You have the skills to excel in either. And both would bring an instant promotion."

"But…."

"No buts, trainee." Santel shook her head. "There may come a time when you are temporarily assigned duties outside these offices…but those times will be rare. If you insist on remaining a field officer, you might as well resign yourself to spending most of your time in the archives. Dismissed, trainee."

Without waiting for a reply, Santel turned and walked off, leaving an angered Kat Kent staring after her.

As the door to her office slid closed behind her, Santel allowed her self the luxury she could not have indulged in while in the trainee's presence. She cursed loud and long.

"Feel better, Captain Santel?"

The captain spun, her right hand instinctively going for the side arm she was not wearing.

"Commissioner." She relaxed, seeing the man seated, cross-legged, in the small couch she kept in her office for those long, over night cases. She was more disturbed at not noticing his presence when she entered the office than she was at blowing off steam in front of him.

"I witnessed your little pep talk to Trainee Kent." The commissioner informed her.

"Pep talk?" Santel snorted. "Pure bullshit, you mean." She moved around until she was behind her desk and took a seat. "That girl deserves to be out there, Commissioner. Hell, she's got the potential to be one of the best officers we've had in a long time." She shook her head. "But no." She glared at the Commissioner. "Thanks to you, she is stuck in an administrative job. And you have not even given me a clue why!"

"It is rather delicate…." The Commissioner started, stopping when the Captain slapped her hand down on her desk in anger and frustration.

"To hell with delicate, Commissioner." She pointed towards the door of the office. "I have an officer out there who is not being allowed to utilize her full potential…On your orders. And I don't have any delusions, Commissioner. IF we don't use her, we're going to lose her!"

"Perhaps that would be best." The Commissioner sighed, ignoring the Captains disrespectful outburst.

"For who, Commissioner?" Santel leaned forward, her eyes narrowed. "What is it about Kent? Other than the fact that her name probably isn't Kent."

"How do you know that?" The Commissioner seemed close to panic. "Who…."

"No one, Commissioner. And I didn't really know it until now. But I suspected." Santel held her hands in front of her, palms up. "Kent is an Earther name, and if she is an Earther, then I'm Mother Goose. Oh, she tried to hide it. She tried not to show off. But she couldn't fool the weight scales nor could she completely hide her strength. Kent, or whatever her name is, is a heavy worlder." She now pointed at the Commissioner. "Is that what this is all about? Is she a plant? A …."

The Commissioner cut her off, shaking his head.

"No, Captain." He sighed. "She is one of the good guys. And she truly wishes to help…and we both know she has the capability." He shook his head. "But we can't risk it. We can't risk her possibly getting hurt, or even killed."

"Who is she, Commissioner?" Santel insisted, though she was getting the feeling that she probably didn't really want to know.

"I can't tell you that, Captain." The Commissioner told her. "But I can tell you that, if any thing happens to her, it will be a major embarrassment to the Government of Earth."

"What does she know about this?" Santel demanded as she typed a few commands in her desk console.

"Nothing. She is fully convinced that she was able to create a fool proof identity that would prevent people from realizing who she was." The Commissioner actually smiled. "And she almost did it. I still haven't figured out exactly how she came so close and I don't think I ever will."

Santel raised one eyebrow in question as she tapped another set of commands into her desk unit.

"Oh I have a pretty good idea how she did it." The commissioner admitted. "However, finding out for sure would entail bringing in others to do the trace."

Santel stopped her typing and gave the Commissioner her full attention.

"Are you saying you are the only one that knows who she is?"

"I am." The Commissioner looked smug. "I found it when I reviewed the results of her final pre graduation security check. Even then, it took a little digging." He shook his head. "So you see, Captain. It is of the utmost importance that we keep this girl out of harm's way."

"Begging the Commissioner's pardon, but I don't see that at all." Santel continued on, not allowing the Commissioner an opportunity to object. "This girl is valuable to us and I plan on making use of her."

"You dare…."

"Yes, Commissioner." Santel nodded. "I will keep her primarily in Admin, but I will allow her to at least get her feet wet in field work from time to time. I will insure that she is teamed with a seasoned veteran at all times and will restrict her field work to duties like Spaceport patrol, but I refuse to force her into quitting because some politico thinks she might be an embarrassment."

"Mark me well, Captain." The Commissioner stood, his eyes narrowed. "If anything happens to this girl, I will have your job…do you understand me?"

"I understand quite well, Commissioner." Santel stood as well and indicated the door. "I will do my best to insure that she is kept safe. Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to do."

She waited until the Commissioner had left before taking her seat and staring at the data her desk unit was displaying. She had played a risky game, talking to the Commissioner in that fashion, but she had to get him out before he inadvertently caught site of the displayed data.

"It seems I was right, Katrina Kent." She murmured. While the Commissioner had talked, she had instituted her own search. A search any sec-pol officer could have accomplished, if the right questions were asked.

She had pulled up Kent's physical description, and had then searched for girls from heavy gravity worlds, currently known to be on Earth, that came close to matching that description.

Surprisingly, the list that came back instantly was larger than she had expected. Mostly exchange students from other worlds, a few staff members of UP representative, and some on business trips.

The closest match, however, was one she had least expected. Oh yes…she would make sure she kept a close eye on this one. But she would be damned if she let the girl stifle. "So what do you think about that, Katrine Kent…" She smiled thinly at the side-by-side images on her screen…one the black haired Kent and the other…. "Or should I say, Cora Zir-El?"

The Captain closed her eyes and so missed the slight green glow that surrounded her desk unit briefly and then faded.

**Themyscira, Earth**

**3003 A.D.**

"Tell me about lies, Magalla."

Magalla closed her eyes, shutting out the vision of the statue of Hera before which she knelt.

She had sensed the girl's presence. Had sensed that she was in turmoil and that the turmoil was directed toward her. Her and the amazons.

She had had gone about her duties as High Priestess, leaving the girl to her thoughts. She would speak, would announce her presence, when she was ready.

This was not, however, the question she had expected. Still…

"I don't know…."

"My memories, Magalla. They are lies. And you knew it, didn't you?"

The girl stepped out of the shadows, the sunlight streaming though the grand openings in the ceiling, revealing the deep green hue of her skin, sparkling in her golden hair, flashing in her red eyes. Magalla saw none of this with her own eyes and with a start she realized she was seeing the girl through the eyes of the statue of Hera. Hera, the mother goddess was responsible for this. The one that had made it possible…and necessary…oh so long ago.

Magalla sighed and opened her eyes, making her way painfully to her feet before turning to face the girl.

"Yes." She nodded, drawing her self up. "Though I would not call them lies, my child."

"What would you call them, Magalla?" The girl…no…the young woman…strode forward until she stood before the mage/priestess. "Fantasies? They are lies, Magalla. They are memories of things that never happened…memories of a life that I never lived. If they are not lies, then what are they Magalla?" She did not give Magalla a chance to answer. "Why, Magalla? Why did you not tell me? Why did you let me believe that what I thought were memories were simple images…falsehoods…fed to me while I lay in a stasis chamber." She shook her head. "For how long, Magalla? A thousand years?"

"Close." Magalla nodded. "And you were awakened too early. You should just now be coming out of stasis…but that choice was not ours."

"I don't give a damn, Magalla!" The young woman did not quite shout. "Can you even begin to understand what it was like to learn that the happy child hood I remembered…never happened? That the parents who brightened my memories….were dead and gone? Dust."

"You don't know that." Magalla countered.

"What else could be the truth, Magalla?" The woman hissed. "How many people, other than those on this island, could live for a thousand years?" She shook her head. "I've seen my father's record, Magalla. I know he died less than fifty years after I was placed in stasis."

"Yes." Magalla sighed. "Lar Gand did die. He died in one of the earlier battles of the so-called Continuum Wars. But your mother…."

"Mothers, Magalla. Two of them. Two mothers, Magalla?"

"Three, actually." Magalla squared her shoulders. "Jennifer Gand, Arisia Gand, and I am sure that you picked up something from Barbara Gordon. Barbara Gordon lived a rich, full, if childless life."

"Oh yes." The young woman sneered. "Barbara Gordon-Stark. I learned of her too, Magalla. The rich heiress of Stark-Wayne industries, after her husband died. And whom she followed to the grave a mere five years later. She left Stark-Wayne in trust, Magalla. Imagine my surprise to discover that it was you whom she named administer of that trust! Why, Magalla?"

"ENOUGH!"

Both Magalla and the young woman whirled as Queen Troia advanced through the temple towards them. Her stride was full of anger and she did not stop until she stood face to face with the young woman.

"You will not speak to Magalla like this again…do you understand me?"

"I will not be treated like a child!" the woman snarled.

"Then stop acting like one, Jensia!" Troia growled back. "And I will not hear you disparage the memories of those I called friends." She took a deep breath. "Jensia, Magalla has indeed administered Stark-Wayne over the centuries. Waiting for you. Stark-Wayne is yours…because you are the closest thing to a child that Barbara Gordon-Stark ever had." She moved closer until her flesh colored nose nearly touched Jensia's green one. "But that is not what you want to hear, is it? You want to hear an apology for not taking away from you the one thing that was truly yours…memories of parents you could never know in waking life. You will not get it, Jensia. Lar, Arisia, and Jenny were all relieved to know that you would have something of them, even if they could not give it to you themselves. And you do this. You play a pity game and blame Magalla."

Troia studied the sullen woman for a moment.

"But you are right…I think it is time you learned the truth of your birth…the full truth." She turned to Magalla. "If I am not mistaken, you sealed the room?"

"I did." Magalla nodded.

"Then it is time to break those seals. I want Jensia to see it all!"

Magalla stared at her queen for a moment and finally nodded.

"This way."

She touched the altar that lay before the statue of Hera in four areas and waited until the massive stone construction slid slowly to the side to reveal a black maw descending into the depths below the temple.

Leading the way, her magic providing light, she led both Troia and Jensia downward, passing room after room until she stood before a set of sealed doors.

Working quickly and deftly, she removed the seals and pushed the door open.

As she entered the room, Jensia gasped. Scattered here and there were the skeletal remains of several amazons. Beyond them, pushed into a slight alcove, a burnt and blasted stasis unit stood empty.

"Here is where you were born, Jensia." Troia spoke again. "Here is where these woman, all acolytes of Magalla, died in their attempt to save you. And it was here that Magalla nearly died as well." She stepped over to the stasis unit.

"If this is the case, then why didn't whoever did this kill me or take me?"

"Because they were not after you, Jensia. They got what they wanted, and they did try to destroy you." Magalla answered. "They got your sister, but figured you would be a liability."

"Sister?" Jensia rocked back on her heels.

"Sister." Troia nodded.

Jensia listened as Magalla took up the explanation, using words and a series of pictures she conjured in the air.

With her heart near to breaking, she watched as Jennifer Walters-Gand and Arisia arrived on Themyscira, searching for a way to save Jenny and Lar's baby. (Authors note: See MVP1-15: After the Fire) She watched and learned as Jenny and Arisia merged to form Senturia and as Barbara Gordon-Stark was accidentally pulled into that union. She learned how the yellow radiation that poisoned Arisia's body and the mystical energies supplied by the Purple Healing ray and Hera were used to cleanse the baby of the lead poisoning that threatened to kill it as well as make it immune to any future exposure to the element so deadly to Daxamites.

She saw the anguish that shown clearly in the faces of both Jenny and Arisia as they learned that the cure would be slow…that the baby, hardly more than an embryo, would have to grow over a period of centuries.

She watched with narrowed eyes as the embryo, stored deep within the temple in a special stasis unit, performed the unexpected and impossible by splitting…becoming two individual entities.

She saw the children develop over the years. One developing the green skin of Jenny and blonde hair of Arisia, with bright red eyes, constantly enveloped in a slight green glow of energy.

The other becoming the exact opposite. Her skin a deep violet, her hair blue, her eyes a malevolent yellow while yellow energy played over her body. For reasons she could not put a finger on, Jensia felt a wave of hatred flow through her emotions. The images showed that the children were always as far apart form each other as they could get in the stasis unit. As if their separate energies repelled each other.

"We called her Aisenj." Troia cut in. "It was some time before we were able to discover that the very yellow radiation that saved you, also created her."

"We should have realized something like this would have to happen." Magalla admitted. "The yellow radiation could not remain in your system or it would have surely poisoned you as it did Arisia. Perhaps we could have drawn the radiation out, perhaps not. The point is now moot." She sighed. "That radiation, a product of tremendous evil, sought for years to destroy Arisia and only the energy of the Starheart, and later Jennifer Gand, held it at bay. That day, when she and Jennifer Gand joined to give you a chance of life, the poison was cleansed from her system. And she, Aisnej, is the result. She is that poison given life of its own."

"Why…." Jensia swallowed the lump in her throat before trying again. "Why would anyone take her?"

"Because of her potential." Troia answered. "And she had to be taken before we were forced to make a decision on what to do about her."

"Do?"

"Jensia, we could not have allowed something like that free in this world." Troia answered honestly. "The best thing we could have done for this galaxy would have been to destroy her before she was born." She shook her head. "We knew this…but it was not something we could do. We had hoped to leave her in stasis…forever."

"But she was taken…and they tried to destroy me!" Jensia breathed.

"Yes." Magalla answered. "She is out there, somewhere, daughter. Being trained for who knows what evil. They tried to kill you…because the two of you cancel each other out…or so we believe will be the case."

"So why didn't I die?" Jensia tried to push the thought of Aisnej from her mind.

"We don't know." Troia answered, shooting Magalla a dark look. "There have been eight other attempts…and each time you have been protected."

"Twelve attempts." Jensia correct softly. "There were four more attempts during my training on Oa. Two of them engineered by Green Lanterns."

"What?" Troia gripped the girl's arm.

"They were traitors." Jensia nodded. "After the second attempt, the Guardians performed a purge of the Corps. Nearly a third of the corps had turned…without them knowing it."

"How could that happen?" Troia, familiar with the ways of the Green Lanterns, demanded.

"Because two of the Guardians themselves were traitors. Working with…Qward."

"Qward." Troia closed her eyes. "Will we never have an end to those…." She trailed off, visibly taking control of her emotions.

"I believe we now know who took Aisnej." Magalla spat.

"Possibly." Troia nodded and then looked to Jensia. "Now you know the truth, daughter. There was no attempt to deceive you. Merely a desire to protect you. If we were wrong, then so be it."

There was silence and then Jensia nodded.

"So…is that the only reason you have returned from Oa?" Troia finally asked.

"No." Jensia shook her head. "I have to go to the Metropolis Megaplex." She shrugged at the inquisitive looks. "I don't know why. I know only that I have to go there. I was…told…to go there. Whatever is going to happen to me next…will happen there."

"Told?" Troia tensed. "Who told you?"

"A voice." Jensia smiled. "A voice I have never heard before …until today."

She looked at Magalla and pointed to one of the mystical pictures that still hung in the air. The picture that had given sight and sound of that day so long ago.

"It was her voice!"

Troia looked and gasped…for the picture had frozen on a close up of…Senturia!

**Metropolis, North America, Earth**

**3004 AD**

Home.

Katrine Kent relaxed as the entrance to her three-room domicile slid closed behind her.

She paused, as she had so many times over the past year since she had graduated from the academy, and looked around. She was, first and foremost, checking for signs that anyone, anyone at all, had been in here while she was out and, secondly, musing about the state she now lived in.

She could have easily afforded a place in the most expensive neighborhoods. Such places were, however, beyond the means of a mere rookie Sec-Pol Officer. It would be bound to attract unwanted attention. Especially if some one took a notion to investigate. Her forged records showed that she was an orphan child of an upper lower class family.

There would be no way she could logically explain how such a money poor individual could afford the most luxurious of homes.

Of course the cover was far from the truth.

As Cora Zir-El, she would never be needy in a financial sense. Never.

Certainly the El family, the "ruling" family of the House of El, were wealthy in their own rights. Yet in the years since Kandor was enlarged on Daxam, the Tu Family, traditionally one of the lesser families in the House of El, had pulled far in front of all the other families, in or out of the House of El, as far as wealth was concerned.

Much of that wealth derived from the inventions that seemed to flow forth from the Tu Family ever since Kori Zor-El, or Karen Dox as she had been known back then, retired to Daxam and married Mak Tu. A surprising turn of events, according to the History Holos, for it had been thought she would marry Kim El. And well she would have…had he not died in the same attack on Daxam that had taken the lives of so many…including that of Lar Gand.

It had been the Tu family that had developed the El-Tu Hyperspatial drive and the El-Tu Hyperspatial communications system.

With the new drives, ships could travel across vast interstellar distances in mere days. The El-Tu drives were not as effected by a star's gravity well as much as were the outmoded Hyperdrives so even in-system travel was reduced from weeks to days.

The communication system, however, was an innovation. These new systems allowed almost instant communication throughout the area of space claimed by the United Planets Federation. Before that, communication was restricted to how fast a courier ship could travel from system to system. Of course, the instant communication afforded to the Green Lanterns due to their rings had not been counted as a general communication system.

Yet both the Communication system and the Ship drives had been far more than they appeared. Both allowed either travel and communication to and from the different Known Probabilities. Communication was almost instant with the Inheritors Universe, Otherverse, and Alterverse as well.

Of course, the El-Tu Drive had turned out to be a curse every bit as much as the Communication System had been their salvation.

For well over a hundred years, trade and travel between the various Known Probabilities had flourished…until 2984.

That year, the year Cora had turned six years old, as counted in Terran Years, saw the onslaught of the most horrendous calamity to befall the entire galaxy. The Trilian Plague! A malicious attempt to wipe out the El Family, the plague began mutating from the very beginning. Initially, or so it was believed, geared specifically to target Kryptonians, it quickly mutated until it devastated any who come in contact with the deadly pestilence. And it was through the use of the El-Tu Hyperspatial drive that the plague found it's way to the other Known Probabilities.

A cure was found…but not before two entire probabilities were wiped of all higher life forms. Probabilities six and Seven (previously known as Earth-4 and Earth-S before being pulled into the Multiverse) were massive death traps, quarantined by all the remaining Known Probabilities. For here, in these two Probabilities, the Plague still ran rampant, evolving, seething, mutating. It was still a mystery why the Plague, though still deadly, did not take a high toll in lives in all the Probabilities, though there was some speculation that only the original three Probabilities were so devastated, while those that had been grafted into the Multivese so long ago were naturally resistant.

Even so, it had taken the combined efforts of Probabilities One and Four, with massive support from The Inheritors Universe and Otherverse before the plague was brought under control.

The toll in lives had been in the billions in Probability One before the cure was developed in Probability Four and distributed.

One of those lives had been Cora's mother. When the dust had cleared, it was discovered that, though the House of El still stood, The Tu Family was no more. Cora herself was the sole remainder of that once noble family. The sole survivor…and the sole heir.

Cora tried to clear the images of those dreadful days from her mind as she walked through the domicile, still looking for signs of illegal entry.

She was, however, still lost in the memories of those dark days when a sharp buzzer sounded, indicating that some one was at the entrance of her domicile.

Shaking her head, she reached for the nearest comm. Unit and set the visual to a point above the outer entrance and blanched. She had a visitor alright! Commissioner Maria Santel!

Cora shuddered. She had been there, that day months ago, when Durlan terrorists had attacked the Spaceport. There to give a speech to the graduating class of '04, the Commissioner of that time had died instantly under a hail of laser fire.

Cora had gritted her teeth when then Captain Santel had gripped her arm and guided her out. They had become involved in a firefight, despite the Captain's efforts to remove her from the scene…all the while Cora chafing…she could have handled it all so quickly…if only she had been able to get away from the Captain.

And now, that same woman, the one the Metropolis division of EarthGov had named the new Commissioner, now stood patiently at the entrance of her domicile…waiting to be let in, the expression on her face giving away nothing.

Gathering herself, she buried Cora and it was Kat who walked to the entrance and palmed it open.

"Commissioner Santel…." She began, cutting off as the Commissioner brushed past her.

"Close it, Kent." The Commissioner ordered over her shoulder as she strode into the main living room.

Kat did as she was ordered and, completely mystified, followed the Commissioner.

"Have you seen or heard any news since you went off duty, Kent?" The Commissioner demanded, her narrowed eyes boring into Kat.

"No, Ma'am." Kat began to answer. "I just…"

"Good." The Commissioner took a breath and then motioned for Kat to take a seat. "Sit down, Kent."

She waited until a confused Kat complied.

"Something has happened, Kent." The Commissioner began. "There's no easy way to say this, so here it is. There's been another terrorist attack. This time at the UP Enclave."

Kat sat up straight; already denying what she knew was coming next.

"Four compounds were completely destroyed, Kat. One of them the Daxam Compound. I'm sorry Kat, but Ambassador Zir-El is dead."

Kat jumped to her feet before her mind registered her actions and was already moving towards the entrance.

"Cora, no!"

The Commissioner's sharp command cut through the shock induced fog in Cora's mind. She stopped in mid stride.

"You know." Her voice sounded wooden to her own ears. Detached as if it were some one else talking.

"I've known for over a year, Cora Zir-El." The Commissioner nodded. "That is why I wanted to be the one to break the news. Because I believe I am the only one that has a hope of stopping you from doing something stupid!"

"Stupid?" Cora was still too stunned to feel anger.

"Stupid." Santel closed the distance between them and deftly worked her way between Cora and the entrance. "Cora…no, let's keep it Kat for now. Kat, your father was not the target. Three other ambassador's and their families died as well. But they weren't the targets either. It was you they were after, Kat. You!"

"Me?"

"Come off it, Kat." The Commissioner's voice softened. "You might be in shock…in a natural state of denial…but you are not stupid. And neither is EarthGov. You Daximites might think you were able to keep it undercover, but we damned well know that the Trilian Plague was aimed at _your_ family! And we know why."

"I don't…What!" She watched, almost helplessly as Santel's hand dropped to the blaster in her holster, drew the weapon and, at point blank range, fired!

The energy blast struck her in the chest, splashing off and dissipating!

Kat stood there, the outer layers of her uniform burnt away, revealing parts of a blue, red, and yellow uniform beneath. And the telltale sigil…the big Red S, as the Terrans had called it centuries ago. The symbol of the House of El. The emblem of…Supergirl!

The confusion, the sense of betrayal, the news of the tragedy, all took their toll. Cora Zir-El felt her defenses begin to crumble. She began to sag and suddenly Santel was there.

Strong as the Commissioner might have been, her strength was no match for the weight of a Daxamite…no, a Kryptonian…going limp. Quickly, she moved the young woman to a couch and guided her down, easing down beside her.

As the sun sank into the west, as darkness enveloped the city, Commissioner Santel crooned softly, gently rocking the sobbing woman-child in her arms.

_**MVP1-16**_

Marie Santel pushed away from her desk, rubbing her eyes.

It had been a long evening. She had sat for hours with the distraught, grief stricken Cora before the young woman had drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Santel had then returned to her personal flitter, retrieving the Sec-Pol uniform she had brought for this express purpose. It wouldn't do for any one to get curious about laser burns on a uniform that should have left the person wearing them rapidly cooling in death. Next she had left a message on Kat's personal comm. unit. She was to take the next day off from work. Instead, when she awoke, she was to contact Santel directly and arrange a meeting. Santel had already cleared the requested time off. It might look a little suspicious to see the Commissioner signing off on such a request from a mere officer barely out of the academy, but no one would question it. Or rather, she hoped they wouldn't.

She had left the code to her personal comm. so Kat would not have to go through the regular channels, the fewer people that could put a connection between them, the better.

After that, she had returned here, to her office, rather than go to her own domicile. There was still much to do and would be until all the investigations into the bombing of the UP Enclave had been concluded.

But now the words on the screen were beginning to blur and she knew that she had just about reached her limit.

Moving slowly, naturally, she rubbed her eyes and, when she dropped her hands, her right just happened to fall onto the butt of her blaster.

With a subtle flick of her thumb, she unsnapped the safety strap.

With a deft movement, the weapon was out, resting in her hand on the desktop.

"I know you are here." She spoke aloud. "You've been watching me since I got here. Now show yourself!"

Whatever she might have expected, what then occurred was not it.

There, in the center of the room, a small green mist appeared, glowing gently.

"Who…what are you?" Santel forced herself not to aim the blaster at the mist.

The glow within the mist pulsed faintly and Santel paled.

"No. That's impossible!" She breathed. The mist pulsed again and despite herself, Santel nodded.

"Okay. What…what is it you want?"

The mist pulsed yet again and Santel nodded again, turning to her comp screen.

"Show me." She demanded.

The mist moved until it enveloped the comp screen and Santel watched as it came to life on its own. Hundreds of pictures and holos flashed on the screen at a pace to fast for Santel to even register before it stopped, a single picture centered on the screen. The image enlarged and Santel studied the figure.

"Who is she?" She demanded. The mist pulsed. This time Santel didn't nod. Instead, she continued to study the image.

"Jensia." She finally spoke the name of the person in the image. The mist moved away from the comp screen and pulsed again and Santel looked up, her eyes narrowing.

"What do you mean she is not the only one under your protection? Who else is…." Her words cut off as the mist pulsed and then faded from sight altogether.

Staring at the now empty room, Santel shook her head. The next few weeks would be very busy…and extremely interesting.

She typed a few commands, retrieving the last known location of the woman named Jensia and then did a complete wipe. She should have guessed. There, at the last, a single name had entered her mind. Cora!

_**End of Part 1 of A New Generation**_

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- Story written and copyrighted (C) 2004 by Dylan Clearbrook  
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	2. Chapter 2

_**MVP1-SLSH2**_

_**A New Generation**_

_**Part 2**_

_**© Dylan Clearbrook**_

_**(Note: This story has gone through only one minor edit. All errors (and there may be many) are the fault of the author and faulty fingers.)**_

**The Federation of United Planets**

**A Short History**

_Commonly referred to as the United Planet or the UP, the Federation of United Planets had its origins in the early 21st century. Thrust fairly early in their development into space, largely in part to two consecutive Khund invasions, the Terrans of Sol 3 had already began the process of crafting the governmental system on which both the modern day EarthGov and the UP systems are modeled._

_With meager beginnings, which included the three inhabited planets of the Sol System and the recently colonized Daxam in the Roxal System, the UP has fluctuated in size over the centuries and has come close to being disbanded at least three times during periods of war-fare between some or all member planets. In all three cases, it was the Johnny-come-latelies to the galactic community, the Terrans, and their Daxamite (previously known as Kryptonians) allies that forged the peace, using both diplomacy and military force, that have allowed the UP to continue its existence to this day._

_Presently, there are over three hundred member planets within the UP and several hundred more that, although not officially members, are considered major trade partners or protectorates of theUP._

_Some worlds, Durlia and Rimbor being the most visible examples, have been protectorates for several years and wish only to be rid of UP influence. Both worlds, and others like them, have often resorted to acts of terrorism to fight what they deem to be battles of independence from the UP. More recently, Durlia has ceased such acts and has opened talks with UP delegates to formally petition for full UP membership and has opened an embassy in the UP Enclave near Metropolis on Earth, the traditional seat of government of the UP._

_It has been nearly century since the last major war embroiled the UP yet certain historical experts are warning that the rising tide of terrorism is but a forerunner of another galactic conflict._

_**-Encyclopedia Galactica**_

**The Religion of Kryptonia**

…_nearly forgotten centuries before Krypton exploded, the worship of Lorra as the mate of Rao had a resurgence in the shrunken city of Kandor just prior to being enlarged on Daxam._

_Over the centuries, several sects of Lorra appeared, grew, and then withered. As the traditional Raoists passed away, worship of Lorra gained more acceptance. Over time, both Raoists and Lorraists were supplanted by a new, swiftly growing sect known as Kryptonia._

_Kryptonia was, in every way, a perfect merger of both the religions of Rao and Lorra, holding that neither male nor female held dominance. Though individuals could feel free to dedicate specifically to one deity or the other, the over all message of Kryptonia was that of equality._

_It was the strong adherents of Kryptonia that spearheaded the movement to return to the System of Rao and begin the project of terraforming and colonizing the planet Argo in the 28th Century!_

_**-The Chronicles of Kryptonia**_

**Metropolis, Earth**

**3304 AD**

"What do you know about my family?"

It had been two weeks since the devastating blasts that had destroyed four embassies in the UP Enclave…and killed her father.

The pain was still there…but Cora Zir-El, known now as Katrine Kent, was dealing with it as best she could. At the moment, she was seated at dinner with a woman that, had the situation been normal, would hardly have noticed a simple low rank, wet behind the ears Sec-Pol Officer. Yet this was not a normal situation and Commissioner Marie Santel was hardly your average Sec-Pol Commissioner.

For one thing, she had been Kat's commanding officer when the young woman had graduated from the Academy. Only the demise of the previous Commissioner, during a terrorist attack on the Metropolis Spaceport complex, had propelled then Captain Santel to her current lofty position.

Now, as she watched the young woman pick at her food, she had to smile to herself.

_I probably know more about your history now, than you do._ She thought. But aloud, "Just what I have been able to glean from reports and history."

She averted her eyes, stifling the churning in her stomach as Kat speared a chunk of meat on her fork and popped it in her mouth.

Though eating real meat was not unheard of on Earth, it was extremely rare and had been so for well over a century. The Daxamites, however, were true carnivores.

Kat chewed thoughtfully, swallowed, and lay her fork down. She rested her elbows on the table, her hands clasped above her plate, providing a rest for her chin.

"When the Kandorians were enlarged on Daxam, their DNA was slightly altered." She spoke slowly, her eyes closed. "Not a major alteration, yet from that moment on, if things had gone as the Starheart had intended, never again would a Kryptonian gain powers when subjected to the radiations of a yellow sun."

"Obviously something didn't go as planned." Marie Santel laid her fork aside as well. She knew much of the story already, thanks to a newly discovered source of information, but she could not, as yet, reveal that.

"Possibly. Or maybe it was planned after all." Kat responded. "But the Kryptonians would have remained powerless…had it not been for Kori Mak-Tu."

"Mak-Tu?" Santel inquired.

"Her married name." Kat nodded, her eyes still closed. "In the Kryptonian records, her name was Kori Zor-El, one of twin daughters of Kara Zor-El. Originally, her name had been Karen Zor-El Dox." Kat paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts, and then plunged on. "It began nearly twenty Earth years after she retired to Daxam and married Mak-Tu…

**The Roxal System**

**New Kandor, Daxam**

**2023 AD**

"You're certain?"

Kori Mak-Tu nodded mutely, waving a hand to invite her husband, Mak-Tu, to go over her results.

"Dear, I believe you." Mak-Tu ignored the invitation and pulled the sullen woman to her feet, enfolding her in his arms. "And it is okay. We can always use one of those Matrix things to…"

"No!" Kori spun out his arms, tears flowing down her face. "It wouldn't be the same, Mak!" She turned back to him. "Don't you understand, I want _your_ child! I want a child that will be part of you and me…not some randomly selected DNA cobbled together from the genome cache. And I can't!"

"Okay." Mak spoke calmly. Having grown up among Terrans, Kori tended to be a bit more emotional than your average Kryptonian. It was one of the things that had caused him to fall in love with her so many years earlier.

The two of them had fit together like hand and glove, both working together under the tutelage of Teora Dak-Tu, Mak's mother.

They had spent the next several years working tirelessly, utilizing the data that had been a gift of the people of the Inheritor's Universe, to revitalize their new world. They had been much to busy to even think about children…until now. And now…they discovered it was impossible.

"See this?" Tears still flowing, Kori called up a schematic that displayed as a three dimensional holo, floating above her work area. "This is a single strand of my DNA." She flicked a switch and another strand appeared. " This is Carrie's…Kari's…." another switch "and this is yours."

She enlarged sections of her own and Kari's

"See here? Right here is proof that Kari and I are not as identical as we had first supposed."

Mak, seeing that Kori was dealing with her emotions by throwing herslf back into the science, studied the two diagrams.

"Rao," he breathed. "Not even mother could have mapped that so minutely." He pointed out a section on each. "This is what you are talking about? There is hardly a difference in the strands at all. I would say true twins would not have so closely matching strands."

"Probably not, but perhaps that difference is what separates the two of us. Perhaps it is that difference that gave Kari her tendency to be… brasher…than me. Or that make me have a tendency to think things to death."

She extinguished Kari's holo and brought up Mak's.

"Now look at the same areas."

"There is a decided difference." Mak acknowledged, with a sigh. "More of a difference than there is between us and the original DNA encoded in the Inheritor Genome."

"Exactly." Kori lashed out with a foot, kicking the stool. She then proceeded to hop around on one foot, yowling.

"Dear…" Mak sighed. "You have got to calm down." He took her in his arms. "If you don't…." He trailed off as a large white canine appeared in the lab, looked at them, gazed at the large white feline that followed Kori everywhere for a moment, and then winked out.

"There, you see?" He turned her face up. "You've not only upset Pantha, you've worried Fang! And I would bet he showed up because you were effecting Kari!" He was, of course, referring to the empathetic bond Kori still shared with her "twin", Kari.

"And if you have Kari worried, you can bet we'll be getting a visit from your mom within the week!"

**Metropolis, Earth**

**3304 AD**

"…Kari that came up with a solution." Kat continued her tale. "Using some of the techniques that Teora had developed, they did a bit of elaborate gene splicing. They removed the incompatible portion of Kori's DNA and replaced it with an appropriate strand from Kara Zor-El."

"Then you…."

"I don't lose my powers instantly under a red sun." Kat nodded, eyes still closed. "At first, everything seemed fine and dandy."

"But something went wrong?" Santel prompted when Kat went silent.

"Something went wrong." The younger woman acknowledged. "The procedure worked. The draw back was discovered when that child attempted to have children. Same problem. Same solution." Kat opened her eyes. "It went that way for the next generation as well."

"And then Cir-El." Santel responded as if guessing.

"Cir-El" Kat grimaced. "The older of a set of twins born to Alina and Gar-El."

Santel listened carefully. Though she was probably the only non-Daxamite to know the full story, she was also the only one to have a Daxamite willing to talk about it. Kryptonian! She corrected herself. While a majority of the inhabitants now considered themselves Daxamites, the House of El refused to let go of their heritage. They were Kryptonians and, for the most part, became irritated if called Daxamites. Especially since they were for the most part, involved in the terraforming and colonizing of the planet Argo in the system of Rao. The system where, long ago, the planet of Krypton once existed. Now only a poisonous asteroid belt of Kryptonite floated around the sun where the planet had once been.

"Even our records are a bit sketchy about that time." Kat admitted. "But there was a taint. Some believed Alina rushed the procedure. Others believed it was just a fluke, or even something in Gar-El's genes." Kat laughed. It was an odd hollow sound, no where near the richness of laughter that Santel had heard on occasion…before the attack on the UP Enclave. "The old traditionalists claimed it was the judgment of Rao for committing the sin of cloning." She shrugged. "They were able to pin point the problem…afterwards."

She was quiet for a moment and Santel let her collect her thoughts. Tonight was the first time Kat had really opened up…and she needed to talk. It didn't matter what she talked about, just so long as she talked.

"She was Cir Gar-El and her younger twin was Cina Gar-El." She finally continued. "Both girls had tempers…and a tendency towards cruelty that, had it been discovered at an earlier age, could have been dealt with. They could have gotten help. But Alina and Gar-El covered for them. Hid their criminal tendencies." She shook her head. "Cina Gar-El, however, developed something Cir never did…a Conscience. As soon as she was able, despite the derision Cir poured on her, Cina joined a monastery and began studies to become a Priestess of Lorra. The Talix, what you would call Mother Superior, had kept an eye on her and claimed that she had great potential. Obviously the strict life of a Priestess and techniques of meditation helped her control the taint in her genes."

"Cir had no such control." Kat went on. "Shortly after Cina entered the monastery, Cir vanished off planet. Nothing was heard for several years…until word reached Daxam that a "Supergirl", wearing black and a red slash for an S, was ravaging worlds on the edge of the fledgling UP's space. Leaving behind her complete planets devastated. Never one that was truly advanced technologically, of course. Only those that were…easy."

"Then Daxam got word that the "Supergirl" claimed to be Cir-El. She had dropped the honorific from her name, dishonoring her family." Kat looked Santel in the eye. "It was only then that the House of El realized that the introduction of DNA from Kori and Kara had reintroduced powers under yellow suns." She shook her head. "There was nothing anyone could do. And so they denied her…and tried to hide their shame from the rest of the UP. But Cina was not shamed. She was furious. She had the same taint as Cir, but had managed to control it. How dare Cir bring such dishonor on the family…on their world!" Kat closed her eyes again. "And so she went after her sister. Stealing a chunk of Kryptonite from the monastery, Cina found a ship off planet, a ship bound for Earth. Once under the influence of the yellow sun and once she had gotten used to her powers, she took off again…to chase down Cir-El and deal with her…for the honor of her family…and for the good of the galaxy."

"And did she find her sister?" Santel asked, though she already knew the story.

"No one knows." Kat shrugged. "Soon after word had come to Daxam, with the belief that Cir might try to contact her sister, the authorities had secretly placed a homing device within Cina's blood stream. They had not expected her to just take off. So, when they were finally able to track her down…they found her body, torn and bloody, floating in space…the chunk of Kryptonite still clutched in her fingers. No trace was ever found of Cir-El and nothing was heard from or of her again. Most believe that she and Cina fought to the death…and that while Cina's body was recovered, because of the tracking device, the body of Cir-El still floats in space…a lonely, vast, grave."

Kat was quiet a few moments more.

"Alina's sister, Anila Rok-Zee, took the lesson and, after studying the body of Cina Gar-El closely, discovered something. The records are clear at this point, but the how of it was lost. Perhaps it was considered such common knowledge that it was not recorded." Kat shrugged. "She discovered that the problem from the very beginning had been the lack of purity in the bloodline. She points out that it was the Coluan portion of the genetic make up of Kori that was ultimately the problem."

Now Santel was truly surprised. Coluan? How could that be possible since Colu was, for all practical purposes, a recent discovery? The only contact Earth…or Daxam…of the twenty-first century had with Colu was through the evil android Brainiac!

"Anila went back and reworked the entire procedure. This time she added DNA samples they had of Rogue in storage and cleaned out all traces of the Coluan strain" She opened her eyes. "It was only afterwards that she discovered why the Coluan strain had been left in. It was tied directly to the intelligence." Kat smiled whimsically "Anila was the last of the Super-geniuses of the House of El."

"Hmmm." Santel snorted. "Her grand daughter was still enough of a genius to co-develop the Hyper-Spatial Drive and Comm Systems."

"I didn't say they suddenly lost their intelligence. That Coluan segment simply allowed the individual to better utilize her brain. It was estimated that both Kari and Kori could use up to fifty percent of their brains. Whereas the average humanoid still only uses anywhere from ten to twenty percent. Kryptonians, overall, tend to fall into the higher end of that scale." Kat said. "And the best geneticists in the galaxy still come from Daxam…and the House of El."

She picked up her fork and stabbed another piece of meat.

"How can you do that?" Santel could stand it no longer.

"What?" Kat stopped, fork midway to her mouth.

"Eat real…animal meat?" Santel almost gagged at the thought.

"Protein." Kat responded, popping the morsel in her mouth. "Kryptonian…or Daxamite now…plant life does not furnish the protein needed by inhabitants of heavy gravity worlds."

"You could synthesize it!" Santel accused.

"We could." Kat nodded. "And we do. We don't force anyone to eat meat…and we have our share of vegans. But we have discovered that no matter how good the supplements or substitutes are, they cannot replace the psychological effects." She pointed her fork at Santel. "We don't consider ourselves better than anyone. Nor do we consider ourselves above nature. We are, as Rao and Lorra intended, part of the food chain. At the top, but still part of it."

"It is strange to hear of a society so highly advanced socially and scientifically still connected to nature."

"Perhaps that is why!" Kat speared another piece of meat and held it up. "This is one way to remind us that, no matter how advanced we get, we are still dependent on nature!"

"I'll take your word for it." Santel knew she was growing pale and averted her face while Kat chewed. She picked at her own food and the conversation lagged.

The two finished their meals in relative silence in Santel's private domicile. A swank, nine-room affair nestled within the confines of the Hadly Tower. As Commissioner, her rank granted her some privileges and a sizeable salary. Neither, however, were enough to get her domicile on the Tower's perimeter. It would take a lot more money and pull to snag a place with more rooms and an actual open-air balcony.

Santel had wrestled with whether or not to bring Kat here. Over the past two weeks, she had made several forays into the seedier parts of the city to visit the young woman at her own place. Sooner or later, however, some one was bound to notice and would begin to wonder…

Just as Kat was probably wondering why she had brought her here. Surely not for a simple dinner.

She waited until Kat placed her eating utensils on the plate. She cast a glance at the plate and smiled. It was possible that it was simply an unconscious thing, and she wondered how Kat had kept her origins secret for so long.

"You're going to have to watch that." She spoke up, nodding towards the plate.

"What?" Kat looked down at her plate.

"See how you placed your fork and knife? Then added the spoon…which you never used?"

Kat looked.

She had crossed the fork and knife on the plate and then carefully positioned the spoon, facing outward, cupped portion facing up.

"Most Terrans aren't that careful with how they place their silverware." Santel admonished. "But you Daxamites…that is a sign that you enjoyed the meal and the company. Had you not enjoyed either, the fork would face down, the spoon would face down and would be pointing towards yourself, not outward. Had you only enjoyed the meal, then both the fork and spoon would face up. Had you only enjoyed the company, the spoon would be placed pointing outward, facing down."

Kat blushed.

"I haven't done that for…." She trailed off and Santel understood. For the past two weeks, as she dealt with the destruction of all that she knew…she had been hard pressed to maintain the mask of being a Terran.

"Kat, it's okay." Santel reached over and grasped the younger woman's hand. She took a breath. It was now or never.

"Kat, I'm taking you out of Sec-Pol."

Kat sat stunned, her disbelieving eyes finally moving up to see if the Commissioner was joking. She wasn't.

"You can't do that!" She pulled her hand back, standing.

"Yes." Santel sighed. "I can and I have. As of this evening you have been transferred." She shook her head. "Hear me out, Kat."

She waited until Kat nodded mutely.

"Good. Monday you will report to my offices where you will be reassigned as my personal aide."

"Why?" Kat demanded. "Why would you do this? Sec-Pol…."

"Sec-Pol cannot use you to your potential, Kat." Santel pressed. "I can." She stood and moved to the fabricator and dialed a couple of drinks, light on alcohol, and then motioned for Kat to join her in the relaxation room.

The lights dimmed in the dining room as robotic servants moved out to clear the table and in the living room, the lights brightened as Santel stepped in. She passed one of the drinks to Kat and motioned for her to have a seat while she took one her self. She kicked off her shoes and, in a pose that hardly fit the Sec-Pol Commissioner of the Metropolis Megaplex, tucked her feet up in the seat.

"Officially, you will still be a Sec-Pol officer," She continued the explanation. "Perhaps, I shouldn't have put it that way. But you won't be working in the archives or going out on patrols. For now, you'll work for me until we are ready to take the next step."

"Next step?" Kat looked at the drink in her hand and sit it aside, untasted.

Instead of answering, Santel asked her own question.

"Tell me why you do it, Kat." She demanded. "You've caused quite a stir, you realize." She didn't wait for Kat to respond. "The rumors are beginning to fly out of control." She sat her drink down and ticked off the rumors on her fingers.

"The most common one is that, some how, the last Superwoman has returned." She said. "That would be…Carrie…correct?" At Kat's silent nod she went on. "Since most people believe that Daxamites…and yes, I am well aware that you prefer Kryptonian…Get used to it…your people should have changed the planet's name when you colonized it…have no more powers…so they don't know what to think or they think it is some fraud using modern technology to simulate Superwoman's powers. Some think you are actually Cir-El back from the dead and they are waiting for the other shoe to drop." She lifted her drink and took a sip. "But there are some that either know or guess that the House of El still has the potential for Super Powers. It's my guess that those that engineered the Trilian Plague…and the bombing of the UP Enclave, are among that last group."

"You mean…." Kat went pale and Santel nodded.

"Yes. It was you they were after, Kat." She went on quickly. "Tell me…does the potential for power ever show up in the male offspring?"

"I…I don't know." Kat was confused by the apparent change of subject. "There has never been a male offspring. Only female."

"Then it was you they were after." Santel sighed. "That's why they waited until spring break at Metropolis University, where, officially, Cora Zir-El was attending classes. They waited until they were certain that you were back at the compound…."

"But I was!" Kat exclaimed.

"What?" Santel sat up straight, swinging her legs to the floor.

"I was there." Kat struggled with the memory. "I had gone to visit with my father. We talked…and then I left. I did some shopping, took care of some financial business that had built up, and then went home…where you found me."

"Who knew you were going to the compound?" Santel demanded.

"No one." Kat shook her head. "You…and a front I use to handle my finances…are the only ones that know I'm Cora Zir-El."

"This front…when did you talk to him last?" Santel pressed.

"Why…." Kat paused, her eyes filled with horror. "Just before I headed out to the compound…I told him I would be by afterwards."

Santel had Kat give her the contact information and then… "You best give me the keys for your accounts while we are at it." She took the information and then rushed out of the room, Kat on her heels.

In a smaller room, an office away from the office, Santel slid in behind her desk and began tapping keys, making some direct inquiries. She didn't worry about leaving a trail for some one else to follow. Her system and her authority ensured that she could make discreet, anonymous inquiries. After a moment she sat back, bewildered.

"Well, I found your front." She announced after a few moments, sitting back. "He was brought into the morgue three weeks ago. They're still waiting for some one to claim the body." She grew silent again and then shook her head. "Tell me, when you visited your front, did he actually access any of your accounts while you were present?"

Kat thought for a moment and then shook her head.

"No." She answered. "He mentioned something about a glitch in the system and took notes in a compad. Said he would enter the information later. Now that I think about it, he seemed a bit…jittery."

"He had every right to be nervous." Santel snorted. "You were supposed to be dead. And since the man you used to handle your finances was dead, the man you talked to obviously wasn't him."

"But how…" Kat trailed off, her eyes narrowing. "A Durlan!"

"A Durlan!" Santel confirmed. "That would be my guess as well." The shape-shifting inhabitants of the planet Durla were not highly regarded in the UP. Though the Durlan Government had officially applied for full UP membership, there were still several factions that were unwilling to give up their war of terrorism. To its credit, the Durlan government stamped out such cells of terror when it discovered them and passed on any information it received about pending actions of the cells to the UP authorities. "Good enough to fool you…and probably even any co-workers. But it had to have been a rush job. They couldn't have known when or if you would show up." She looked up at the young woman standing over her shoulder. "I would say he probably didn't have the access keys to your accounts…or he knew he could not fool the identification protocols of their computer systems." She held up her compad. "We can check your accounts from here…to make sure they haven't been tampered with." She left it open, waiting for a response from Kat. Finally, the younger woman nodded.

Santel entered the security keys Kat had given her and then stood, motioning for Kat to take her place for further identification. That done, she then looked over her shoulder.

"Everything seems to be in order." Kat mused, leafing through screen after screen of data.

"Hold it!" Santel exclaimed. "Back up one screen." Kat did as ordered and waited.

"I'll be…." Santel looked down at Kat. "You own Hadly Tower! You own this tower!"

"Actually," Kat blushed as she read over the section Santel was referring to. "It's a tax write-off purchased for me. And it isn't just the Tower. It's the entire surrounding development. The penthouse of this tower is maintained for me. But the rest is leased out to City Government."

"Pent…" Santel shook her head. "And I'll bet you've never even been there."

"No." Kat looked up at her. "I didn't know until just now that I owned it."

Santel shook her head and motioned for Kat to move aside. Sliding back in behind the terminal, she began tapping commands.

"We'll worry about how rich you are in a bit. First, I want to do some more checking on your 'front'. Mr. Fred Dalnes." She tapped some more and then studied the screen, frowning. "Interesting."

"What?" Kat peered over her shoulder.

"It seems some one dropped the ball." Santel glared at the screen. "Fred Dalnes lay in the morgue, yet the system didn't notice that, nearly a week later, the same Fred Dalnes booked passage out-system. That should have sent up red flags everywhere." She read on, her countenance becoming grimmer. "He never made the flight. Instead, he was found dead near the spaceport. Murdered." She looked up at Kat. "He was signed into the morgue the same day that his family came to claim the body…of the first Fred Dalnes!"

"Shouldn't some one have caught that?"

"Yes, they should have." Santel nodded, her eyes narrowed. "In fact, the system should have been screaming bloody murder. But it hasn't. It is acting as if there were no discrepancies at all!"

"Some one has tampered with it." Kat understood where the commissioner was going.

"Yes." Santel turned back to the screen and touched a few keys. "I'm going to check this out. It may take awhile, so why don't you go check out your penthouse. I've downloaded the initial entrance keys to your compad. You'll have to reset the keys so the penthouse can identify you in the future. Go. I'll come get you when I'm done here or if I find something."

She didn't wait for Kat to acknowledge before she began tapping away.

**Star Queen Liner**

**Departing Titan In-System**

The faintest of sounds signaled the docking of the shuttle and the young red haired man, alone in the observation lounge, sighed.

Soon the lounge would fill with the new arrivals, intruding on his solitude. It was a scene he had played out several times over the past few weeks.

Not for the first time did he fervently wish he and his sister had been able to afford passage aboard one of the outrageously expensive minimal stop vessels plying the space lanes between Winath and Earth.

Such, however, was not the case. The best they could accomplish had been middle class passage aboard the Star Queen. Officially categorized as a luxury liner, vessels such as the Queen were known to have various tiers of passengers. The truly rich passed the trip in true luxury in the forward and upper decks. The cheaper the passage, the further back, closer to the engines, and the lower. Of course, with the cheaper passages came the cheaper services. He could almost imagine what the lowest passages had to cope with on such a long journey.

It had taken almost two weeks just to get from his home system to the Sol system as the Star Queen stopped at scheduled points along the way.

Once in the Sol System, however, the trip had slowed to a crawl as the Star Queen stopped at various satellites and planets along the way. He was truly grateful that the fifth and fourth planets in the system were currently on the other side of the sun, thus not feasible stops. This stop, at Titan, one of the primary satellites of the ringed planet Saturn was the last one. It was early morning, ship time, now and by this time tomorrow, the giant, lumbering liner would be slowing into a parking orbit above the Lunar Spaceport. There they would go through the first of two customs inspections. The second they would endure when their shuttle touched down on Earth.

There was something about Titan he felt he should remember, something he had read or seen back on Winath.

Silently, the young man cursed the need to leave Winath on this hopeless trip in the first place. The authorities would not listen to him or his sister there. What had made them think the Earth authorities would be any different? Still, they had to try. And they both understood why their word had been so suspect on Winath.

His dark thoughts were interrupted as light from an opening door filled the room.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know anyone was in here."

A soft feminine voice spoke apologetically.

"It's okay." He forced a smile as he looked back over his shoulder. Silhouetted by the door, he could only make out a darkened figure with hair to the shoulders. "Just enjoying the view." He sighed and turned back to the grand scene before him. "We don't have ringed worlds in my system." He said. "We passed through two systems on the way here that had them, but neither was as awesome as this. It is really beautiful."

"I suppose," The voice was at his shoulder now and he turned slightly. It was a young woman, possibly close to his age, with the light skin common among those that have been many generations far from their primary star and entombed in glass domes, and full, golden hair that tumbled to her shoulders. "if you've grown up with it in your backyard, you sorta get used to it."

"I guess you would." He smiled. He turned more towards her, holding his hand out. "Garth Ranzz." He introduced himself. " From Winath."

The woman looked at the hand first, obviously startled. Then, looking up, into his eyes, she tentatively reached up and took his hand in hers.

"Imra Ardeen." She almost whispered, her voice a bit shaky. "From…OH!"

She jerked her hand back, a frightened look in her face as she looked at him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't…"

"Hey, it's okay." He continued to smile, though he was sure the sudden concern he felt shone in his eyes. It was only then that he noticed her clothing. Dark pink and white, almost military in cut and fashion. And above her left breast, a deep red emblem in the shape of a ringed planet. And he remembered what he had seen about Titan…and its people. "You're a telepath!" Silently the woman nodded.

"That's why you were hesitant to shake hands." He forced a smile.

"Touching…enhances…the contact." She admitted. "I am not used to being around…normals." She paused. "On Titan, people are taught to build mental shields to hide their thoughts at an early age. And it is not that we fear contact. It is more…concern…for the other person. We do not like to…intrude."

"And since we normals don't have those shields, it would be far easier to accidently pick up on something, I suppose." He guessed, smiling as she nodded. He looked around the lounge. "Well, I suppose your people will be filling this place up real quick. Perhaps I should make myself scarce."

"My 'people' are already here." The woman's tone was serious.

"You're alone? They stopped here to pick up a single passenger?"

"Yes." The woman looked back out at the scenery. "Titans do not often leave their domes. They are usually not welcome. Not that it bothers them. They tend to dislike being around 'unruly' untrained minds."

Her arms moved up, as if she were hugging herself.

"And they were more than happy to see me go." She whispered.

She looked up, aware that she had spoken aloud.

"I'm sorry." She tried a smile. "I best leave you to your view." She turned and started towards the door.

Garth watched her walk, time seeming to slow as his mind raced. He couldn't understand it, but he knew one thing for certain…he could not let her leave!

"Wait." She stopped and turned as he approached her. Ignoring her intake of breath, he took her hand and led her back to where they had stood, admiring the great ring. "I think it's a view best shared with someone."

She stood beside him, looking down at the hand that still held hers. Not as a captive, but gently. She then looked up…to find him looking down at her.

"Tell me." He spoke softly, his green eyes seeming to bore into hers with their intensity, their concern, their…

She tore her eyes back to the view, breathing deeply, her mental shields slamming into place, blocking out every thought but her own. With her free hand, she reached up and touched the red emblem.

"These are color coded." She began. "A different color or shade denoting the…strength…of the wearer."

"And what does this color mean?" Her breath caught again as his hand lightly brushed the emblem.

"I…it signifies that my abilities are beyond the means of measuring." She spoke. "There has never been anyone as strong as I."

"Sounds to me that they should be happy to have you." Garth mused.

"I…scare them." She admitted. "I can break through the shields of even the Masters with ease. And so far, none can get past mine."

"And for that they wanted you gone?"

"Not for that alone." She shook her head. "I…well, The Masters did not approve of my violent tendencies."

"Violent tendencies?" Garth looked at her with disbelief.

"Titans are, for the most part, pacifistic." She sighed. "I am not. I believe there are times when action must be taken…and there are times to fight for the greater good. That, and my training in Koh-Re, made them extremely uneasy."

"Koh-Re?" Garth smiled. "We have something in common. Both my sister and I have had trained in Koh-Re. She's reached 2nd Dev Black Sash. I've gone a bit further and achieved 5th Dev."

"I've only reached 3rd Dev myself." Imra looked at him with appreciative eyes now. "I've tried for 4th Dev a couple of times, but so far, I've failed."

He remained silent merely looking at her.

Biting her lip, she tentatively pierced the shields she had thrown up. None would be able to catch her thoughts, yet she could still touch the thoughts of others. Another skill that had earned her the distrust of the Masters.

Probing gently, she allowed her mind to touch the thoughts of this…intense…young man.

The swirling thoughts, the barely suppressed emotions, the hurt and anger and….

With a gasp, she withdrew.

"So what did you see?" Garth smiled. He did not seem offended or scared, though he obviously knew what she had done.

"I…I saw how you saw me." She blushed…and then her face grew serious. "And I saw what has happened to you and your sister. And I know why you are going to Earth!"

Garth's fist clenched at his side and he looked back out at the receding ringed planet.

"Mekt!"

_**MVP1-SLSH2**_

"Garth! Garth! Wake up! Garth…oh."

Garth struggled to open his eyes, squinting against the sudden bright light in his cabin up at his flush faced sister, Ayla.

"Sorry." Ayla apologized but she made no move to leave. "Time to get up…they're about to start loading up the first shuttles down to Lunopolis!"

The bed shifted and Garth felt a hand snake across his chest.

"mmmmm." The covers shifted and Imra lifted her head…and noticed Ayla. "Oh!"

"I hear a lot of that lately." Garth grumbled and then sighed. "Ayla, this is Imra. Imra, my twin sister, Ayla."

"Nice to meet ya." Ayla looked Imra over with the critical eye only a protective sister could have and then looked back at her brother. Though there might have been something more. More…appraising. Imra resisted the urge to probe.

"Move fast, don't you?" Ayla was saying.

"Ayla!" Garth snarled.

"Easy, brother dear." Ayla plopped down on the bed. "But you really do need to get a move on. I want to be on the first shuttle down."

"She is right." Imra spoke up. "I would like to be on that shuttle myself."

"It's a conspiracy." Garth huffed. He then looked at his sister. "Out!" he ordered. "I'll be out in a few minutes."

"You better be!" Ayla stood, wagging a finger at him. "And don't even think about getting…distracted!"

With that, she sauntered out of the cabin, letting the door slide shut behind her.

"Sorry about that." He sighed, turning over on to his back.

"For what?" Imra lay her head on his arm while her hand played through his thin chest hair.

"Ayla." He replied. "She can be…well…."

"A sister?" Imra smiled. "Would you not be as protective of her?"

"Probably." Garth had to laugh. "But at least I would have the courtesy of not eyeing a lady she might bring home!"

"Lady she might…Oh!" Imra blushed. Her initial thought had been correct. "Does Winath have …" She paused, unsure of how to word the question.

"No." Garth shook his head. "We don't have laws against it, if that is what you were going to ask. But neither is it extremely common and it is frowned upon. At least she swings both ways."

"At least…." Imra smiled. "I think you might have a bit of the Winath attitude towards it, yourself."

"And Titans have no problem with same-sex relationships?" Garth asked.

"No." It was Imra's turn to shake her head. "With us, it is not the body or the sex of the individual…but the mind!" Her lips stretched in a smile of memory and her hand moved down over his chest and then his belly. "But perhaps we have focused too much on the mind!"

"Down, girl." Garth laughed, catching her hand. He then turned serious as he clutched her hand in his. "Imra…."

"Shhh." She smiled, catching his thought. "We have shared minds, Garth my love. That is something I have never done."

"You were hardly a virgin." Garth countered.

"In body, no. Does it matter? But in mind?" She tightened her hand on his. "Never before have I opened my mind to another in such a way."

"That was…different." Garth breathed. The memory was still fresh. Their lovemaking had begun slowly and yet had quickly risen to a fevered pitch of almost desperation. And in the moment of her peaking, she had drawn him into her mind. Never before had he experienced such…intensity. He shook his head. "But what I wanted to say…I don't want this to be the only…"

"Do not even think it, Garth Ranzz of Winath." She poked him in the ribs with stiffened fingers. "You'll not get rid of me that easy." She smile was purely evil now. "Even if I have to dally with your sister to be near you."

"You wouldn't!" He turned his head…and found his lips locked with hers.

"_I would not_." She assured him, her voice sounding in his mind. "_And should you want me gone, I would leave. But it will not be my choice_."

"_Nor mine_." He thought back to her. "_Nor mine_."

**Metropolis, Earth**

Metropolis at night!

The green skinned woman moved through the crowds of youth, taking in the sights and sound of the nightlife.

In a thousand years, with all the technological advancements, not much had changed.

Her memories, the memories of events that had never occurred, were of the twenty-first century, so it was, at times, amusing to compare what she saw now to what life was back then. Or rather, what her memories showed life to be like back then.

Modes of transportation had improved, people had scattered throughout the galaxy, leaving the Earth less crowded as a result, but some things never changed.

The battle of the sexes still raged on. People still sat down for dinner around a table and still used the same kind of utensils. Young people still gathered at shopping places, holo-theaters, and bars. People still went camping (though their notion of "roughing it" would have left a twenty-first century camper in stitches). People still put their pants on one leg at a time. Mothers still nursed babes. Children still played in parks on swings and slides and jungle-jims. Lovers still walked beneath the stars.

All of this she could compare to her memories. What she could not judge as well were the changes in morals and values. For those, she had to rely on what she had learned from the Amazons and from her own studies after leaving Themyscira.

Modesty taboos, she had learned, varied among the known worlds. Here on Earth only total nudity was illegal…and that only for sanitary purposes, having nothing to do with any religious mores or values. Not that it was ever really an issue. Men and women had long ago learned that 'sexy' did not equal nudity. While fashions had, in the intervening years, undergone many back and forth changes, the current trends seemed to promote skimpy clothing that accented the body rather than hiding it.

Looking around now, as she passed through the shopping mall, one that promoted itself (incorrectly, she felt) as a genuine recreation of an actual 21st century mall, she could see that many of the youth were, indeed, indulging in the newer fashions. It was not the package, but how the package was wrapped!

Racism, though less of a curse in the latter portion of the 20th century, no longer existed. But its modern counterpart still thrived among the human worlds: Xenophobia!

In this case, a strong fear and distrust of just about all non-human life forms, be they humanoid or utterly alien.

Several wars, one of which had devastated earth about two hundred years earlier, could account for some of the fear.

Yet in some cases, that fear was not only saved for the humanoid and non-humanoids, but aimed towards many of the other human races as well.

Here, on Earth, the original races no longer fought, but many had united in their unreasoned hatred and fear of humans from many other worlds. White, black, yellow and Terran red joined together to voice their spite at the races having widely variant shades of color ranging from bright red to…green.

This, she had learned, was strange, considering that they all came from the same place.

During her few years with the Green Lanterns of Oa, she had traveled the galaxy, once visiting the Planet of the Preservers!

The Planet of the Preservers was the world in the galactic core from which that long extinct race that had seeded untold planets with human life had originated.

The relations between the Human worlds could not be denied. Biologist from all over had finally come to the conclusion that those few genetic variants that separated them were hardly significant compared to the genetic similarities. Similarities that could not, in any way or form, have been random coincidences. Indeed, though complete compatibility between members of races was rare, complete incompatibility was even more rare.

One of those were the Daxamites…not the Daxamites that existed in the here and now…nor even those that had long ago killed themselves off, but rather the Daxamites of her father's home reality. Of course, the modern Daxamites, the Kryptonians, were just as incompatible with Earth humans as her father had been.

Her thoughts continued to wander as she walked the streets, passing through the lighted, lively areas into the darkened night, unconcerned about who, or what, might lie in wait in the darkness.

She had been in the Metropolis Megaplex for close to two weeks now, having arrived mere days after the bombing within the UP enclave.

Hearing that the Daxamite Ambassador and his family had been among the dead had struck something within her.

Not that she had any reason to identify with the Daxamites…or Kryptonians, rather. Her only connection to Daxam was through her father…a father she never truly knew. It was that connection that caused her eyes to come out red, she had learned from Magalla.

Lar Gand's eyes had been normal, true. But his genes were pure Daxamite and while she had inherited her mothers' energy generation ability (though no where near the degree that had made her so dependant on Arisia) and her gamma radiation induced looks and strength and near invulnerability, all she had from her father were a few enhanced senses. His super-hearing, his telescopic and microscopic vision…and his heat vision! It was the last that caused the eye-color.

And yet, hearing of the attack on the UP Enclave had brought her to a near rage and only her training on Themyscira and Oa had kept her from lashing out blindly.

Of course, Magalla had not given her time to indulge in much of anything that first week.

"If you are old enough to be on your own in the world," the priestess/mage had told her "then you are old enough to handle your own finances."

The first week had been spent legalizing her within the outside world and acquainting her with what amounted to a virtual financial empire.

"Stark-Wayne ceased to exist long ago." Magalla had explained. "But through one World War and two galactic conflicts I have been able to funnel funds in various directions, maintaining the Stark-Wayne Trust through various projects and companies through the years."

She had met with high-level accountants, many astonished that some one had actually come forward to claim the trust (Magalla had always managed the trust without the financial institutions realizing the trust was being managed! In fact, it had been Magalla that had reworked the trust so that there would be no dispute when Jensia made her appearance.) and had learned that she was, indeed, quite wealthy.

The accountants had gone over just about every single item of her investments before Magalla had called a halt, insured the financial institution would now take orders concerning the trust from Jensia, and pulled her out.

"What's wrong?" Jensia could sense that something was bothering her mentor.

"Those final accounts." Magalla frowned. "They were excellent investments, firm and not easily traced."

"Yes?" Jensia did not understand.

"I didn't authorize them."

"You…then who?" Jensia demanded.

"That is what I intend to find out." Magalla had responded. "I must return to Themyscira, but I will be back in two weeks to let you know what I find out."

During the week following, Jensia had wandered the streets of Metropolis, visited the out lying areas were people still lived close to the land, farming the soil, seen both the good and bad sides of the great mega-city. And had come no closer to an answer as to why!

Why had the voice told her to come to Metropolis? And what of that voice? The voice of Senturia, she was certain. Had she truly heard it or merely imagined it? She had not heard it since leaving Oa except in the magical scenes Magalla had shown her in that ruined chamber below the Temple of Hera.

Still there was no answer. With a heavy heart she lifted into the air and flew back the way she had come, heading for the penthouse her accountants had purchased for her. Tomorrow. She would give it one more day. Tomorrow she would check out the one area she had not yet explored and if she found no answers, she would return to Oa. But tomorrow, she would check out the Metropolis Space Port.

End of A New Generation part 2

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- Story written and copyrighted (C) 2004 by Dylan Clearbrook  
- and may not be reprinted without permission. 


	3. Chapter 3

_**MVP1-SLSH3**_

_**A New Generation**_

_**Part 3**_

_**© Dylan Clearbrook**_

**Hadly Tower **

**Metropolis Megaplex, Earth**

It had been a long night. Now, as the sun began to peak out over the eastern horizon, Commissioner Santel sighed and pushed away from her computer screen, rubbing her eyes.

With another sigh she stood and stepped out of her home office and made her way out of her own quarters and up the few dozen levels to the penthouse level.

The automated security system instantly recognized her and let her in.

It was truly a spacious affair; this grand penthouse that Kat had not even been aware was hers until the night before.

She paused at the doorway of the master bedroom, peeking in to see Kat curled on the bed, the sheets twisted and rumpled as if the young woman had tossed and turned for the few hours she had been able to sleep.

Palming the door shut, she then made her way through the penthouse to the grand entrance and the outer terrace that would give her an unobstructed view of Metropolis Bay and the rising sun.

Settling into a form fitting, all weather seat, she stared up into the brightening sky, as if looking for something or someone she knew she would not see. She then closed her eyes, ignoring the single tear that welled up and spilled out from her right eye and on to her cheek.

She was so tired of playing this game; feigning ignorance of things of which she had an intimate knowledge was getting harder each and every day. She wondered how much longer she could keep it up…and she wondered if those that had requested her to take this assignment knew exactly what they were asking…what it would do to her?

She put her hands to her face, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a small sob as the weight of the years and the memories that came with them pressed in on her.

"I can't do it anymore." She whispered.

"You have to, if only for a short while longer, old friend."

Her head jerked up and she looked around.

"Great." She muttered, seeing nothing and no one. "Now I'm hearing voices." She purposely shied away from the thought that she had almost recognized the voice.

She stood and moved to the railing the lined the edge of the rooftop, looking out over the city.

"Computer, music please." She spoke softly, knowing the penthouse system would pick up her words. "Access my home system, code gamma theta seven three beta. Music selection two five nine."

There was a slight pause and then music filled the air:

_**Hey baby I'm talkin to you  
Stop yourself and listen  
Some things you can never ever do  
Even if you try, yeah  
You're banging your head again  
Cause somebody won't let you in  
One chance, one love, your chance to let me know...**_

She closed her eyes again, letting the slight breeze waft against her face, buffeting and tangling her shoulder length hair.

It was an old song. Real old. By today's standards it would be archaic, played with instruments long outdated as technology advanced.

And yet, thanks to a time capsule uncovered a few years past, the duo that had made that song famous so long ago was once again thrilling audiences in the 31st century. An entire collection of music recorded on prehistoric 'compact discs'; it had not taken people long to realize the financial possibilities.

The music had been painstakingly copied and released to the public and had become an instant sensation. Voices from the past.

Santel smiled, her eyes still closed. How many, she wondered, would be surprised to learn that not one single song on those CD's, which now resided in the Smithsonian Museum, had been written by the duo that sung them? That every single one had been made famous on other Earths? Earths that no longer existed. And how many would be surprised to discover exactly who those two girls, such a sensation so long ago, had really been?

She blanked her mind and let the next song take her, opening her mouth to sing softly along.

_**These dreams go on when I close my eyes  
Every second of the night I live another life  
These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside  
Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away**_

"That sounds good."

Santel opened her eyes, turning.

"Music off." She ordered, seeing Kat standing in the patio door, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"You have a good voice." Kat commented. "But I couldn't understand more than a word or two."

"Old English." Santel forced a smile. "You might say I was a student of old languages in my younger days." She spoke a few words and Kat's eyes widened.

"That sounded like Kryptonese, but I have no clue what you said."

"All languges evolve over time." Santel replied. "Even Kryptonese. Meanings and word sounds change over the years. I would have been surprised if you had understood."

Standing, she walked over to the younger woman, pulling a compad from an inside pocket of the suit vest she wore.

"I'm glad you're awake." She said, changing the subject and handing the compad to Kat. She ushered the young woman back into the living area and into a seat.

Kat yawned as she tried to focus on the compad.

It had been a long night.

She had explored her penthouse and then, when the Commissioner took a break from her research, went through it again, showing it off. The two had then returned to Santel's little cubbyhole and gone back to work.

Finally, unable to stay awake any longer, Santel had sent her back up to the penthouse to spend the night.

"I would rather you stay here, tonight." She had said. "That way you are close by if I find something."

"Didn't you sleep at all?" Kat now grumped as she studied the compad.

"A bit." Santel answered, somewhat vaguely.

"What is this?" Kat frowned and paged through the report. She stopped and looked up.

"First, please tell me that Fred Dalnes had no clue that Cora Zir-El and Katrine Kent were one and the same person." Santel demanded before she could speak.

"No." Kat shook her head. "I was careful to only show up at his offices as Cora. He knew nothing about Kat. Nor did my financial records point to that." She grimaced. "Kat has her own account…and it has been a struggle to make do only on that account."

"I can only imagine." Santel remarked, her tone dry. "Well, Kat doesn't have to worry about money anymore. But she may have to worry about keeping her job!"

"What?"

"Officially, Cora Zir-El is dead." Santel soothed. "While I was checking last night, I discovered that her accounts were about to be frozen and moved back to Daxam. So I moved them."

"Oh no." Kat slumped.

"Oh yes. Katrine Kent is now wealthy beyond her wildest dreams."

"How?" Kat shook her head. "There's no way you could do that without leaving a trail even an idiot could follow!"

"I had a little help." Santel smiled thinly. "Believe me, there is no way that trail is going to be uncovered. As far as all our systems are concerned, those accounts were transferred back to Daxam. What happened to them there is beyond our control. And every single step of that transfer was logged. What's more, the Daxamite systems will report that the accounts were received…down to the last centa-cred!"

"And Kat suddenly becoming rich is not going to attract attention?"

"Of course it will." Santel nodded. "There's no way I could stop that. But I could, again with a little help, make it appear one hundred percent logical…and legal. You, my dear, had a great aunt Lori Kent…who was fabulously wealthy…and she left everything to her only remaining relative…a relative that was not even aware she had a rich aunt…you!"

"You have got to be kidding!" Kat should her head. "A rich aunt? That is just so…cliché!"

"And, believe it or not, all the more believable because of it." Santel smiled. "The beauty of it is…there really was a Lori Kent, and her will did stipulate that her estate be awarded to any proven relative. You see, Lori thought she was the last of her line. And she was. Sure, there are other Kents, but she had not a single living relative. Not one. Until, that is, you came along! We were able to convince the systems that you were, indeed, Lori's only living relative. You got everything."

"And what exactly did I get?" Kat demanded.

"Well, actually…nothing." Santel admitted. "I diverted it to…someplace else." She held up a hand. "Hold on. Nothing illegal. Not really. But that money might come in handy during the next phase. Instead, I dumped Cora's account into Kat's."

"That's twice you've alluded to some future plan of yours, Commissioner." Kat's eyes narrowed. "And you haven't elaborated. But you've made it clear that, whatever those plans are, they concern me."

"Settle down, Kat." Santel shook her head. "All I want to do is help you do what you want to do!"

"I want to be a Sec-Pol officer. Though I have considered trying out for the new UP Security team."

"You want to be a Sec-Pol officer." Santel shook her head. "Is that why you have been sneaking around playing hero? Is that all you want to do with it? Play around with it? If so, let me know and I will have you on the next ship to Daxam."

"I…no..."

"Then tell me about it, Kat. I asked you last night, but we got distracted. Why do you do it? Why have you decided to bring Supergirl back?"

"I…" Kat paused, thinking it through before she just blurted out an answer. "I grew up fascinated by our family's history." She went on after a moment. "At first it was a mere fantasy. I had the same powers as Superwoman, Andromeda, Supergirl, and Powergirl. So I began to play out those fantasies. I learned Koh-Re, I learned to use those powers. I trained for the day I could get out and be Supergirl."

"But…" Santel prompted when Kat paused yet again.

"But it changed when I finally put on the uniform for the first time and…"

"And saved a malfunctioning Sky Train." Santel nodded. "That was the earliest report we had of a new Supergirl. And it just happened to coincide with your graduation from Sec-Pol Academy. Four hundred commuters owed their lives to you that day!"

Kat nodded.

"That's when it became real. When it dawned on me that it wasn't a fantasy. That's when I realized it was not about me at all. But about responsibility. I have these powers. I have to use them. I can't explain it…" she stopped when Santel laid a hand on her arm.

"I can." The Commissioner spoke softly. "Do you remember the day I told you about your psych profile? I said your profile labeled you as a hero. I wasn't joking, Kat." She frowned as she considered her next words. "Over the years, we've been able to map personality profiles far more accurately than ever before. Thanks in great part to research by your family, I might add. I am not a psych tech, but my job, both as a Captain in Sec-Pol and now as Commissioner, require that I have at least a minimal understanding of how to utilize a person by studying their profile. That meant I had to take classes and, for all practical purposes, become a Psych major." She stabbed a finger at Kat. "They are few and far between, Kat. But people with your kind of profile fall into two categories. Super-hero or super-villian. A Sec-Pol officer can be a hero, can have a profile that labels him as a hero, but yours…yours is far beyond that. Remove that officer from the field, take away his badge, make him find another line of work, and he will most likely go on with life and adjust to the change. But people with your kind of profile…it can't be done. You HAVE to be a hero…or a villain. You have to use your abilities to their full potential. You have to have a cause…be it good or evil. When you are not able to indulge in that…" She shook her head. "Your great, great, great, great grandmother is a prime example."

"Kori?" Kat did not bother to hide the perplexed look on her face.

"Kori." Santel nodded. "Does it surprise you that I know as much as I do about her? It shouldn't. She was every bit as famous from a historical point of view as her sister. But there are some things we don't know…but I am willing to make a guess. Kori Zor-El retired early from being a hero. She moved to Daxam and married Mak-Tu. Everything might have gone fine for awhile. But eventually, I would be willing to bet, she began to slide into depression. So much so that I imagine she would need medical assistance to fight it off. Am I even close to the mark?"

"Yes." Kat nodded. "The records show that, for some time before her death, she suffered from severe clinical depression." She had been looking down at her lap…yet now she looked up, a fire in her eyes. "But that depression ended when she came out of retirement!"

"For her final mission." Santel nodded. "The mission to a possible future of the Qwardian Probability. The mission that ended with her death…and the loss of Superwoman and Rogue…."

**The Qwardian Probability**

**Unspecified future possibility**

"…You have got to snap out of it!"

Kara and Rogue, both bruised and bleeding from multiple wounds, floated in the sky above a world that burned below, one on either side of the grief stricken young woman.

Carrie took a deep breath, nodding slightly, her eyes closed and her strong arms wrapped protectively around the body of her dead sister.

"We can grieve when we get home, Kari." Rogue spoke softly, using Carrie's Kryptonian name, her voice cracking in her own grief…a grief that was mirrored by the tears that flowed freely from Kara's eyes. "There's nothing more we can do here. You have got to carry Karen's body through the time stream. Once we get back into our own time and our own probability, we can take her to her family on Daxam."

"Can…" Carrie swallowed…or attempted to, rather. Her mouth had gone dry at the thought of navigating the time stream from this Rao-forsaken probability. "Can you two make it?" Though both Kara and Rogue were putting on a good show…for her benefit…it was clear that both were gravely injured.

"We'll make it." Kara tried to smile, wincing at the pain the action caused.

Carrie waited until both Kara and Rogue had entered the Time Stream, in a manner they had never entered before. This time they had entered hand in hand.

She took a deep breath and started off, quickly picking up the speed needed and adjusting her vibrations…and entered the Time Stream.

The journey was long and hard, the tides of time buffeting her to and fro, always seeking to throw her off course. So it was with a sigh of relief that she reached her calculated drop out point…and re entered her own time…in the sky above the Metropolis of her Earth.

"Kara? Rogue?" Carrie looked around, fear rising in her heart. "Mom?" She spun and flew a wide swath in the sky…her telescopic and x-ray vision playing through the air and along the ground below.

"Carrie!"

It was the double toned voice she had come to associate with Senturia so she was not surprised to see the composite Sentinel drifting up from the planet surface.

"Kara! Rogue!" She demanded. "Did they make it? Are they okay?"

"Carrie, you and the burden you carry are the only ones to exit the time stream."

"NO…" Carrie shook her head wildly. "They had to have made it…They…"

The composite being split and both Jenny and Arisia approached her, their faces showing their feelings…and their fears…clearly.

"No…." Carrie cried as Arisia took Karen's body and Jenny pulled the young Kryptonian, young compared to her at least, into a comforting embrace…

**Hadly Tower Penthouse**

**Metropolis Megaplex, Earth**

"…were lost in the time stream." Santel concluded. "That much is in the records. Carrie, or Kari as you call her, returned Kori's body to Daxam and then, after a triple memorial service, returned to Earth. According to the records, she never entered the Time Stream again. Nor did she ever travel to any other probability or sector within the Continuum. And she never set foot on Daxam again."

"She did." Kat corrected. "She came twice, just to visit the memorials and then to attend the memorial services for Zor-El and Allura." She shook her head. "But according to the records, she was never the same. She…changed. Became more aloof. Some believed that she was becoming mentally unstable near the end. Finally…she just disappeared. No farewell, no grand battle…just gone." She looked up. "But what has this got to do with my psych profile?"

"Everything, Kat." Santel stood. "Karen…Kori…was suffering from extreme depression…because she was denying her own…call it destiny. That depression ended the instant she donned her uniform…and Power Woman flew once again…if only for one last time. Now look at Kari. You mentioned her mental stability. There is every reason to believe that those rumors were true. She was losing it, Kat. Why? Because Kori was dead."

"The empathic bond!" Kat concluded, causing Santel to nod.

"The empathic bond. Now turn it around…what would have happened to Kori had she not gone back into action…and it had been Kari to die?"

"She…she would have snapped." Kat thought it through. "With the depression, the loss of the bond would have been too much for her."

"Exactly." Santel crossed her arms. "Kat, we have enough studies to show that persons with Psych profiles similar to yours can no more deny who and what they are than an ant can deny it is an ant! Doing so can, and does, cause mental damage. Sometimes severe damage."

"You're saying I have no choice."

"No, I am saying you have a limited choice." Santel pointed out. "You can do what ever you want. But you have to do something. You have to use what you have to the best of your ability. You can do nothing less. You can't and won't allow yourself to do any thing less. But how and when you choose to use that ability is strictly up to you." She started for the door to the bedroom and stopped. "Whatever you decide to do, you need to decide quickly. It's time to stop playing at it, Kat." She shook her head. "Now I need you to go over those records, see if anything is out of whack and make corrections. Quickly. We'll be leaving for the space port in a couple of hours."

"The space port?"

"The space port." Santel nodded, ignoring the first inquiry. "We have to be there when the new Daxamite Ambassador arrives."

She left, leaving Kat with more questions than answers.

_**MVP1-SLSH3**_

Once in the elevator that would take her back down to her own level, Santel placed shaking hands on the doors and rested her forehead on the cool metal.

That had been too close.

"I can't do this. Not any more." She had pleaded with _them_.

"Just one more time." _They_ had responded, not unsympathetically. "You are uniquely qualified for this one."

So she had agreed. One more time. And after this? What then? Another? And another after that?

She backed up until her back touched the elevator wall behind her and allowed herself to slide down, her hands balled and pressed to her eyes.

The memories…the faces…the names…the voices of the past threatened to overwhelm her. Too much…if only she could forget…just a little.

But no. It was not her nature. No matter how much she wished it, it was not something that could be done. She could not…would not…forget.

Already the strain was showing.

She had done all she could. Put on the proper face. Feigned ignorance where appropriate, disgust where expected, unconcern when she wanted nothing more than to cry out and….

She shook her head, taking a deep breath.

**Luna-Earth Shuttle**

"Garth!"

Garth Ranzz opened his eyes as the hand in his squeezed tightly.

After a short layover at Lunopolis, the three, himself; Imra Ardeen; and his sister, Ayla Ranzz, had boarded the next shuttle scheduled for an Earth landing at Metropolis Space Port.

After a bit of wrangling with another passenger, they had managed to get Imra's assigned seat changed to be adjacent to theirs. And so now she sat between them…trying ever so subtly to wake him.

"Hmmm?" He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, looking around for the source of her anxiety.

"Shhh." She leaned over and stage whispered. Seeing something was up, Ayla leaned over her, trying to listen in.

"Look at me." Imra ordered. "Don't look anywhere else. And keep your mind blank. You too, Ayla." The two tried to do as she said and she closed her eyes. "Slowly…..slowly…..there." She opened her eyes and looked at Garth.

"What's up?" He asked, trying to act nonchalant.

"I just extended my shields to cover the two of you." Imra explained. "There's a peeper on board."

"A peeper?" Garth and Ayla exchanged glances and Imra sighed.

"A peeper." She repeated. "Not a true telepath…whoever it is can't communicate mentally. They can only read the surface thoughts of others. They can't go deeper nor can they send their thoughts to others."

"Okay. And what is this…peeper…doing that alarmed you?" Ayla asked.

"She's playing look out." Imra said. "She's trying to determine if anyone is paying that group up front any…undue…attention."

"And were you?" Garth asked. Imra nodded.

"Just passive. Nothing intrusive that could be detected." She stated. "And nothing that would alarm the peeper."

"Okay…so let's have it already." Ayla demanded.

"That group that got on the shuttle last." Imra began, waiting until the other two had nodded their understanding.

The shuttle had been preparing to lift when a group of thirty 'tourists' arrived. Running late. They had been allowed aboard, amidst a lot of hustling and confusion. The group had to be seated together, they had insisted. It was in their travel arrangements…and was it their fault if the Starline had screwed it up?

So they were bunched together, near the forward hatch. They would be the first ones off the shuttle once it landed at MSP.

"I am not quite sure how." Imra whispered. "But I think they are armed."

"They have weapons?" Ayla was aghast. "Aboard a shuttle?"

"Shhhh!" Imra closed her eyes for a moment and Garth, out of the corner of his eye, caught sight of a person near the front of the shuttle turning to scan the rows of passengers behind. When the person turned back to the front, Imra sighed and opened her eyes, looking at Ayla. "Calmly." She whispered. "I have placed a passive shield over the three of us, but if you draw direct attention to us, that peeper will be able to see the shield."

Ayla nodded her understanding and leaned closer.

"So what do we do?"

"Nothing." Garth answered before Imra could form a reply. "We watch and wait. We can't do anything that will endanger the other passengers. Besides, they are not interested in hurting anyone here. That would merely be an obstacle they don't need. Nor would they want the exposure."

"You know what they want?"

"I think so." Garth nodded to the back of the seat before him that housed a small view screen. Framed within the tiny screen, a massive vessel floated in space, the Earth forming a beautiful green and blue backdrop for the scene.

"That's a Daxamite Battle Cruiser!" Ayla breathed.

"It's more than that." Garth touched the controls beneath the screen, causing the image to enlarge. "See that light pattern they are running along the bow? That signifies that it is a Flag Vessel."

"And this means what, exactly?" Imra was lost, though obviously impressed by the knowledge her new companions held.

"Flag Vessels are sometimes used to transport important government personages." Ayla whispered. "…and where there is a Flag vessel…"

"There's a battle fleet accompanying it." Garth grimaced.

"A Daxamite Battle fleet?" Imra was aghast. "In the Sol system? But that…"

"The Daxamite Ambassador to the UP was recently assassinated on Earth." Garth explained. "And he wasn't just anyone…he was an El!"

"You think they are here to get revenge?" Imra asked, referring to the Battle Fleet.

"No." Garth shook his head. "Most likely, they are here simply as a show of force…and to make sure nothing happens to the New Ambassador." He shook his head. "Someone is trying to drive a wedge between UP members. And they seem to be aiming at the strongest members."

"The Sol and Roxal systems." Ayla nodded.

A dark haired woman in the front turned back to scan the passengers once again and Imra closed her eyes. When the woman's attention returned to the front, she shook her head.

"No more talk." She said. "Try not to think about any of this. It'll make it easier to maintain the shield." She sighed and looked at Garth. "Maintaining this form of shield over the three of us is difficult." She said. "Harder than a regular shield. Let me handle this, and see what else I can learn. When we touch down, we can figure out what to do."

**Metropolis Spaceport**

**Metropolis Megaplex, Earth**

Okay. She was here. Now what?

Jensia moved among the crowds. People preparing to depart for their final destinations here on Earth, others preparing to lift off to orbiting vessels and habitats, some on business, some for pleasure. Some leaving home for the first time, others leaving Earth to return to their homes.

The differences between the peoples, both human and non-human, fascinated her.

Golden skinned Venusians or Martians, the dark blue skinned inhabitants of Talok VIII, the light green skinned….

Jensia's brow wrinkled. To the best of her knowledge, knowledge that had been pounded into her during her stay with the Green Lanterns on Oa, there was only one race of that particular hue of green…and one of them here was something of a shock.

The planet was Colu. A world enslaved by Super computers…the Machine Masters.

And the Machine Masters were not just masters of Colu…but of several surrounding systems. And no one…no one…ever came out of those systems.

She didn't know if this young blond man was the reason she was here…but she was going to follow him and find out.

_**MVP1-SLSH3**_

"You could have at least given me a bit of warning." Kat grumbled as Santel guided her flitter expertly through traffic, speeding towards the Space-port.

"I did give you warning." Santel glanced towards her passenger and then re-focused on the route before her. "I told you this morning that we were going to the Space-Port."

"You could have told me well before then that Daxam was sending a new Ambassador." Kat accused. "You had to have known for several days."

"Well, yes." Santel admitted. "But the Ambassador isn't coming from Daxam. He's coming from Argo…and SHE was escorted by the 3rd Daxamite Fleet!"

"Argo!" Kat shot a look at the commissioner and then grabbed the armrests of her seat as the flitter dipped through the backwash of a freighter. "Wait a minute. A Daxam fleet? In the Sol system? That's…."

"Against the Federation Accords, yes." Santel nodded. "And several UP ambassadors and representatives to the council are being very vocal in their…outrage at this violation."

"And the Kingdom of Sol? What are their representatives saying? What about the Queen?"

It had never ceased to amaze the Daxamites how the worlds in the Sol System had resurrected a Monarchy willingly disbanded in the early 21st century. After a final civil war that had left all three planets and the various colonies in the system gasping but united, the survivors had sought for a possible way to make sure no such war happened again. They would, in fact, need a single ruler. A ruler that did not rely upon a vote that could be rigged, or could be unfairly balanced. What they jointly decided was to restore the Royal House of Tamaran!

All they had to do was find an heir! And pray to the goods that he or she had not been a victim in the recent wars that had ravaged the three major worlds.

And find **her** they did! And to the delight of the seekers, she was extremely well qualified! By blood and by intelligence and honor!

Of course, by that time, after almost four hundred years, it was no surprise, to find that the one remaining heiress to the throne, descended from the sister of the last King…Koriand'r…was not Tamaran at all. In fact, the heiress was more than acceptable by all sides because she could truthfully claim blood ties with the Venusians…those that had once been Tamarans, with the Martians, or the descendents of the refugees from Graxos IV, and with Earth!

And so, at the insistence of the heiress, the council agreed to form a Constitutional Monarchy. This gave the Queen power, but, as the heiress had fully intended, put definite limits on that power. In essence, power was split three ways. The Queen was, of course, the Administrative branch. The House of Lords and the House of Commons together made up the Legislative Branch. The Judicial Branch was made up of Judges and administrators appointed by the Queen. The Legislative Branch was the check on the Queen's power…while she and the Judicial Branch were the check on the power of the Legislative Branch.

"The Queen is walking a tight-rope and the reps are falling in behind her like good little lap dogs." Santel snorted, causing Kat to give her a look. "She can't afford to allow all of this to come between the Kingdom of Sol and the Kryptonian Worlds."

Kat smiled at that. While Daxam may have retained its name…and many of the current generation considered themselves Daxamites, The El family had been able to push through that bit of legislature. The worlds of Daxam and her first colony, New Krypton, in the Roxal System and the planet Argo in the ancient home system, Rao, and any future colonies would be gathered together under the title of the Kryptonian Worlds.

"But neither can she allow this…show…to go unmentioned." Santel concluded. "All Member systems of the UPF are allowed, under the accords, to retain a home fleet for defensive purposes. Once out of the home system, however, the fleet should fall under UPF Command."

"I take it 3rd fleet failed to relinquish command?" Kat mused.

"Not only did they refuse to surrender command, they blatantly told UPComCent to go to Xerist." Santel sighed.

"The Kryptonian equivalent of Hell." Kat sighed, picturing people at UP Command Central scurrying to dig up definitions of Xerist.

"Exactly." Santel nodded. "Needless to say, ComCent didn't take the…suggestion…very well. She shrugged. "So you see: we have a bit of a situation."

"I would say so." Kat gave the commissioner a questioning look. "So what does this have to do with us? Forgive me for pointing this out, but I am just a lowly Sec-Pol Officer and you, while higher on the rung, are simply the Sec-Pol Commissioner of a single city."

"Let's just say that I tend to run in higher circles." Santel evaded. "But even so, this IS my city and the Space Port falls under my jurisdiction, as does the Embassy Enclave." She stood. "Your father's murder was just another step in trying to undermine the relations between the Kryptonian Worlds and the Kingdom of Sol. The new Ambassador's arrival, complete with a fully primed war fleet, would be too big a chance to pass up."

"You think some one is going to try to kill the Ambassador at the Spaceport."

"Try is the operative word." Santel responded. "We, you and I, are going to see what we can do to make sure the whatever attempt is made does not succeed.

**Metropolis Spaceport**

**Metropolis Megaplex, Earth**

She lost him!

Jensia scanned the crowd around her, her eyes pausing on every blond head she came to long enough to ascertain that they did not have the pale green pigmentation of the young man she had been following. Nothing.

"Perhaps, if you told me why you have been following me around the space port, I might be able to help."

Jensia whirled to see the green skinned Coluan standing behind her, waiting patiently.

"Interesting." The young man said. "Your skin coloring, while quite attractive, is not natural. Not caused by pigmentation." He consulted a small hand held device and nodded. "Gamma radiation." He mused. "It seems to infuse your cells. And yet, everything about you screams Green Lantern. I thought they had been banned from The Kingdom of Sol."

"You're scanning me?" Jensia clenched her fists.

"Why not?" The young man shrugged his shoulders. "You were the one following me, remember?" He actually smiled. "Though I can guess your reasons. But I don't know who you're working for."

"No one." Jensia forced herself to relax. He was right. She had followed him, invaded his privacy, so she had no right to be upset when he turned the tables. "And though I've been to Oa, I am not a Green Lantern."

"Oh?" The young man consulted his device, his face as devoid of emotion as it had been through the entire conversation. "Interesting. These readings insist that you are. Or…" His eyes narrowed and he looked up. "Impossible. There hasn't been one for nearly a thousand Earth years!"

"There is now." Jensia smiled easily, letting a slight green glow escape from her otherwise red eyes.

"But that's…." He stopped, shaking his head. "I need more data." He mumbled. Then, talking plainly. "But now is not the time. Do what ever it is you think you have to do, but I have a shuttle to meet."

"Why?" Jensia pounced. "You said you could figure out why I was following you. So tell me…why is a Coluan skulking around an Earth Space Port?"

The young man sighed.

"I don't have time for this. And you wouldn't understand anyway."

"Try me." Jensia let him hear the menace in her voice and allowed the glow in her eyes to flare even brighter."

"Damnit." The Coluan looked around, pausing as he scanned the shuttle arrival notices. "Fine. But you are going to have to follow me…I have a shuttle to meet."

He started off and Jensia, caught off guard, hurried to catch up. She saw the direction they were going and hid a smile.

"Are you sure you're going in the right direction?" She asked, "The gate to the Daxamite shuttle is in the other direction."

"I am not here to see the Ambassador." The Coluan retorted. "I'm here to try and save his life. It's that shuttle coming in from Luna that I am worried about."

"Why? Who's on that shuttle?"

"Rebels." The Coluan spat. He turned his head towards her as they walked. "Yes, I know, hypocritical of me. But there is a major difference."

"What in Hades name are you talking about?" Jensia's voice pattern altered slightly, dropping into the more comfortable speech mode used by the Amazons.

"Surely you know that I am not the only Coluan on Earth." He snorted. "There's a whole community. Refugees. Would-be rebels against the Machine Lords that have enslaved our world." He turned his attention back to their path. "And yet here I am, out to stop another group of rebels…rebels that want to destroy the only entity that may one day be able to free my people!" He stopped and for the first time he showed something besides a blank face. He showed determination. "Understand that I am not here for any altruistic purpose. I don't give a damn about the Daxamite ambassador. I only know that if the UP falls apart, Colu and the other worlds enslaved by the Machine Masters will have lost their last hope for eventually shaking off the chains of slavery!" He continued and then stopped short as they reached the gate that had been their destination.

He stood with Jensia, staring as the attendants and workers in the area slowly went about their clean up, closing down.

"We're too late!" He slumped. "The shuttle has been here and gone." He looked at Jensia. "That means there are at least twenty killers loose in this space port. All with one target…the Daxamite Ambassador!"

_**MVP1-SLSH3**_

"Garth?" Imra and Ayla exchanged glances as they followed Garth through the space port.

"We can't lose them." Garth hissed back over his shoulder.

"Hold up." Ayla caught his arm. "What are you planning, Garth? Don't you think you should let us in on it?"

"They're after the Daxamite Ambassador." Garth responded, telling them something they both already knew. "We can't let that happen. He dies, and that will be the end of good relations between the Kingdom of Sol and the Kryptonian Worlds. Those two are the backbone. The foundation which supports the rest of the UPF. If they fall apart, how long do you think it will be before the rest of the UPF shatters? And what then? The UPF is all that has stood between Winrath and the Coluan Empire and the Khunds for years."

"Garth, it's not that simple." Imra laid a hand on his shoulder. "You never asked me why I was coming to Earth."

He looked at her and waited.

"I was contacted by the Metropolis Sec-Pol Commissioner." She sighed. "There are factions within the Kingdom of Sol…and within the Kryptonian Worlds…that want nothing more than for relations between the two to sour. In fact, if the two ended up in open war, those factions would be ecstatic."

"Which has what to do with you?" Garth demanded.

"The commisioner wanted me to help track down those factions." Imra admitted. "You are right, we have to stop this group…but there will be another one after them…and another after that. Do you plan on trying to stop all of them?"

"Why not?" Garth turned and continued walking, the other two falling in on either side. "I think I just might be uniquely qualified to do something along those lines."

Imra remained silent. She had been in his mind, knew what he knew…knew what both he and Ayla were. She found she could only agree.

_**MVP1-SLSH3**_

Kat felt decidedly out of place as she scurried to keep up with the Commissioner. Normally she would have no problem. But in this case, she was not quite as familiar with the space port as Santel. And Santel knew exactly where they were going.

They passed other Sec-Pol officers patrolling the area, their side-arms holstered and heavy duty blaster rifles carried at port arms. A few Kat recognized and she nodded towards them, sometimes getting a nod in return, but more often than not, a questioning look was the response.

Santel, for her part, was frowning at the officers as they passed. Finally she stopped and approached one. Senior Officer Terreli, if Kat remembered correctly. The name tag on the officer's uniform confirmed her guess, she saw, as they drew closer.

"SO Terreli!" Santel began in a conversational tone. "Would you mind telling me why you and your people are patrolling the outer corridors? Shouldn't you actually be at the Ambassador's arrival gate?"

SO Terreli gave Santel a confused look.

"Ma'am?" He shook his head. "The Captain assigned these patrols as per your orders."

"Excuse me?" Santel shook her head. "I gave no such orders. In fact, my orders were for all of your people to form a defensive ring around the arrival gate!"

"I'm sorry, Ma'am." The SO withdrew a compad and offered it to Santel. "Here are the orders, transmitted by the Captain!"

"Damn." Santel handed the pad to Kat for her to take a look.

"They are the Captains orders." Kat nodded. "But he only states that he is passing on your orders…he doesn't actually show any such orders."

"He doesn't need to." Santel snarled. "All he had to do was give the troops something so they wouldn't suspect."

"Suspect what, Commissioner?" The SO was gripping his rifle with white knuckles, aware that, somehow, he and his men had been thrust into the middle of a potentially sticky political matter. Being in such places was not good for one's career.

"SO, I am hereby placing you in charge of all space port Officers." Santel told him, sending out the appropriate commands from her own compad. "You are to get your people together and get to the Ambassador's arrival gate as quickly as you can. You will, until you receive further orders from me, ignore all communications from Sec-Pol Headquarters."

"But the Captain…."

"Your Captain is either a traitor or, more likely, dead and replaced by a Durlan terrorist." Santel snapped. "Now get moving. We'll go on ahead. Come on, Kent."

Kat shrugged at the SO and hurried to follow Santel.

Once in the Gate areas proper, Santel paused to get her bearings and then hurried off, nearly jogging as she tried to reach the Ambassador's arrival gate.

"Damnit!" Santel cursed, breaking into a full run as she spotted the Ambassador's party emerging from the docking tube.

"DEATH TO THE UPF!"

Santel nearly faltered as several plasma bolts from the welcoming crowd stabbed forth….

They were too late!

End of A New Generation part 3

_- Story written and copyrighted (C) 2005 by Dylan Clearbrook_

_- and may not be reprinted without permission._


	4. Chapter 4

_**MVP1-SLSH4**_

_**A New Generation**_

_**Part 4**_

_**© Dylan Clearbrook**_

***Note: the terms Kryptonian and Daxamite are used interchangeably in these stories. Daxam was settled by the enlarged Kandorians in the early 21st century and while actual inhabitants of Daxam are now called Daxamites, the system of worlds held in the Roxal and Rao systems are called the Kryptonian Worlds.**

**Metropolis Spaceport**

**Metropolis Megaplex, Earth**

"DEATH TO THE UPF!"

Later, as she looked back over the incident, Santel would be able to recall that five plasma bolts flared from the crowd towards the Ambassador's party. Yet all she saw at that moment were the stunned faces of the advance guard as the bolts splashed harmlessly off of…nothing.

It was if the air directly in front of the part had solidified into an invisible, impenetrable wall.

And splashing was not quite correct. Such energies, deflected aimlessly could easily have taken out multitudes of innocent by-standers. Instead, the invisible wall seemed to absorb the blasts.

For an instant the scene was frozen as assassins and their targets gaped at one another, neither understanding what had just happened.

A quick glance to her left assured Santel that what ever had happened, it had nothing to do with Kat, who stood as bewildered as she.

Then all hell broke loose as the Kryptonian guards shoved the Ambassador unceremoniously to the floor and drew weapons.

The gate the Spaceport authorities had set aside for the use of the Kryptonian delegation had, of course, been cordoned off from the rest of the facility, yet even so there had to be well over three hundred people crammed into the area. Delegates from other worlds waiting to greet the new comers, an Earth Delegation, woefully short on security, near the front.

Amongst the empty rows of seats meant for passengers waiting to board shuttles to waiting spacecraft in orbit, news crews and their equipment. Reporters from nearly every world in the UPF.

And scattered among them…the terrorists.

For a horrified moment, Santel thought Kryptonian guards were going to start firing indiscriminately into the crowd. Instead, the held their fire, unable to get clear shots and unwilling to take out civilians.

Yet the number of potential assassins became horrifyingly clear soon enough. Though only five assassins had fired initially, it was clear by the fire that now raked into the guards that there were more…many more…willing to give up their own lives to snuff out the life of the Kryptonian Ambassador.

Whatever had stopped the first volley of fire was no longer operative as guard after guard fell beneath the blistering blasts of energy that streamed towards them.

Drawing her side arm, Santel started towards the row, only to rock back as a plasma bolt sizzled past her, singing her right arm. Her vision colored by the instant pain, she was only partially conscious of Kat whisking her out of receiving area and into a hallway.

She shook her head, wincing as the movement jarred her arm. Reaching out with her left hand, she grasped Kat's arm as she was gently lowered to the floor, her back propped against a wall.

"Kat, you've got to save them. They're getting cut to pieces in there."

"But…" Kat straightened, looking back towards the fighting. Then, turning back, her face grave with sudden determination, she nodded. "You'll be okay?"

"Just give me a few hours and I'll be as good as new." Santel managed to smile.

Kat made a face, showing that she did not think that likely, yet she nodded once again.

"Go." Santel pushed her away. "It's time for Supergirl to make her appearance." She gasped…for she was talking to no one….Kat had vanished, only a slight breeze remaining to indicate that the girl had moved with Super-speed. Gods but it had been so long since she had seen, or not seen as the case may be, any one move that fast!

_**MVP1-SLSH4**_

"Damn it!" The Coluan cursed and threw his belt to the ground, diving behind a row of seats to follow it.

On the floor beside him, Jensia winced as plasma bolts seared the air near them.

"What happened?" She demanded. "And what the hell was that?"

"A shield." The Coluan snarled. "A personal force field." He shook his head. "I designed it to protect a single person, not an entire party of people. The strain of expanding the coverage, coupled with the plasma bolts caused it to overload and burn out."

"Well it lasted long enough to save the Ambassador from the first attempt." Jensia tensed her self for action. "Now I guess it's my turn to make sure she stays alive through the fire-fight."

"Perhaps we can help with that."

Jensia turned to see three other youths dive to the floor near them as plasma bolts incinerated the backs of seats above them.

One was a red-headed male and the other, a red headed female, obviously related, if appearances weren't deceiving. The third was a blond woman, the pink emblem on her clothes marking her as a telepath from Titan.

"Is this them?" The male asked the blonde woman.

"They are." The blond woman frowned and then looked at Jensia, her eyes wide. "Garth, she's a Sentinel!"

"Sentinel?" the red haired girl raised up slightly to look over at Jensia. "She can't be."

"Excuse me for interrupting, but we do seem to have a problem at the moment." The Coluan youth drawled.

"Right." The youth named Garth nodded and looked at Jensia with a speculative gaze. "Okay. I am going to assume that you have powers similar to a Green Lanterns. Correct?"

Bemused, Jensia could only nod.

"Good. Imra, how many terrorists are we dealing with here?"

The blonde concentrated and then shook her head.

"I can pick up at least twenty five, including those that came in on our shuttle. That doesn't mean there aren't more."

"Understood. Can you identify those twenty-five and implant that information in our minds?"

"I can and…" Jensia felt a buzzing on the edge of her consciousness and suddenly names and faces flowed into her mind. "…done."

"Great." Garth raised his head. "Here's what we do. Ayla, you go to the left and try to take out those you can. I'll go to the left. Sentinel…."

"Let me guess, I go up the center?"

"Well, if you have Green Lantern like powers, then you can shield yourself better than either of us can." Garth turned to the Coluan. "You. See if you can get that belt working again and then you and Imra get it to the Ambassador. If we miss any of them, she is going to need something to protect her."

Before Garth had finished speaking the Coluan and snatched the belt and was already well into dismantling it.

"Good." Garth looked first at Jensia and then Ayla. "Ready?" When they both nodded, he took a deep breath. "Then let's do it!"

Putting actions to words, Garth leapt up and Jensia was momentarily startled as lightning bolts sprang from his fingers, arcing towards a plasma pistol-wielding terrorist.

After that, she had no more time to watch as bolts flashed in her direction. Her automatic shields absorbed most of the blasts, though they were enough to force her to step backwards.

"Watch it!" the Coluan youth snapped from his place on the floor. Then "Got it…it won't last long, though. Now we just have to figure out how to get it to the ambassador without the guards shooting us."

"Leave that to me." Jensia heard the one called Imra say and then she was forced to focus her attention on the problem in front of her.

Twin blasts of green energy speared from her hands, catching a terrorist in the solar plexus, hurling him backwards into a wall where he slid to the floor. Whether he was dead or merely unconscious did not concern Jensia. He was out of the action for the moment and it was time to turn to the next target.

_**MVP1-SLSH4**_

Ayla tried to bury her fear, hardly hesitating as Garth gave the command to go.

Leaping out from behind the seats she and the others had crouched behind, she snapped a kick at the nearest terrorist, pushed a reporter down to the ground and then fired a blast of lightning towards another terrorist. The blast missed but it caused the terrorist to yelp with fear and drop behind cover.

She was grateful that she and her brothers had practiced with their powers, finding different ways of doing things. The effort now paid off as she released a stream of electricity to deflect a plasma bolt that would have taken out a news crew.

She followed up by leaping up and over a row of seats to plant her foot in the face of the terrorist. A small jolt of juice and the terrorist slumped to the floor. She really hoped she hadn't killed the man, but at the moment, she didn't have the time to worry about it.

Landing in a crouch, she sought her next target.

_**MVP1-SLSH4**_

Ducking and crawling, Imra and the Coluan made their way around the battle, closer to the embattled Kryptonian party.

"Querl, stop!" Imra hissed. The Coluan looked back, shocked.

"How did you know…." He stopped, shaking his head with a wry smile. "Telepath…right." He crawled back, closer to her. "What's wrong?"

"Shhhh." Imra closed her eyes briefly and then opened them wide with alarm. "Querl, the Ambassador's guards! They're Durlans!" She pointed and Querl saw the two guards, both Kryptonian in appearance, making their way slowly towards where two other guards crouched over the prostrate Ambassador. "Damn! The real guards are wearing mental shields. I can't get through them in time to warn them!"

"How about the fake ones?" Querl hissed, his fists clutching the force field belt. "Can you read them? Better yet, " he thought furiously. " Can you make one of them believe the other is a real guard…."

"Of course!" Imra exclaimed. She closed her eyes and Querl kept his eyes on the guards. He bit back a yell of exultation as one faltered in his advance, the plasma pistol he carried moving to cover the other fake guard. Querl could see the guards face, could see the horror in his eyes as his arm seemed to rise of it's own violation, his finger tightening on the hair trigger.

The bolt flashed out, engulfing the second Durlan imposter. Instantly, the guards over the Ambassador raised their own weapons and cut down the remaining Durlan imposter. Querl knew instantly what had gone through their minds. They had seen what they assumed to be one of their own burned down and had jumped to the obvious conclusion that the shooter had to be an imposter.

A small sound behind him caused him to turn and then lurch to catch the blonde telepath as she swooned.

Querl checked her pulse and breathed a sigh of relief. She had merely fainted. Most probably because she had not disengaged from the Durlan's mind before the guards cut him down.

Now what the hell was he supposed to do? There was no way, without the telepath, that he was going to be allowed close enough to the Ambassador to get the belt on her.

_**MVP1-SLSH4**_

It wasn't working! Jensia snarled as she let loose another blast, this time sending an assassin slamming into a plas-crete column.

They were taking out Terrorist left and right, but they had not allowed for the restrictions that were placed on their counter attacks by the panicking by-standers. They were three individuals fighting three separate battles rather than a team fighting together. Such cooperation would take practice.

Even as she flared out again, one part of her mind locked on her recent thought and she had to smile. Something was happening here…something important and it was only loosely related to the Kryptonian Ambassador. Whatever that something was, however, would have to wait until they go t out of this mess. Assuming, of course, that they did get out!

_**MVP1-SLSH4**_

"Who the hell are those people?" One of the guards crouching over the Ambassador swore. He raised his pistol and took careful aim. Unlike the terrorists, the guards carried lasers. Though not nearly as deadly as the plasma weapons the terrorists were using, they were less likely to accidentally take out an innocent by-stander with the thin, controlled flashes the lasers produced.

"Who the hell cares?" the other guard snapped his weapon up and fired. "They are on our side and right now, that is all that matters!"

"It may not matter…." Whatever he was going to say was lost in the swoosh and roar of a plasma bolt that engulfed his head. The other guard barely had time to turn before he, too was incinerated on the spot.

Coughing in the acrid smoke, the Kryptonian Ambassador struggled to her knees. The look she threw towards the two terrorists running towards her was not one of defeat or fear…merely contempt!

"Die Kryptonian bitch!" One terrorist snarled as both raised their weapons. They knew their chances of leaving the spaceport alive were non-existent. There had never been plans made for an escape that they knew going in would be impossible. But they would have achieved their goal…the Ambassador would die and the UPF would fall apart!"

The weapons discharged and both terrorists screamed as their bolts were turned back towards them! In the instant before their eyes were melted and their bodies vaporized, they had a glimpse of red, blue, and yellow.

Supergirl turned to look at the ambassador. She saw the look of recognition on her relative's face and put a finger to her lips.

"Ambassador!" Both turned as a blonde, green skinned youth scurried towards them. The youth, gapped at Supergirl for a moment and then thrust the yellow belt in his hand at the Ambassador. "Put it on. This is the device that stopped the first attack. It's a personal force-field."

"I can't…." The Ambassador began, stopping as Supergirl touched her arm.

"Do it." She ordered. "I'm going to be busy and I need to know that you are safe!"

The Ambassador nodded slowly and slipped the belt around her waist.

"Touch the small stud on top of the buckle…there." The green skinned youth ordered. "Now get down. It failed earlier and I had to do quick repairs. I don't know how long it will last or how many hits it will take before it over loads again."

Supergirl waited until the Ambassador obeyed and then nodded to the youth.

"Stay with her." She commanded. The youth could only nod mutely as the blonde girl…as Supergirl…rose into the air.

Instantly the girl became the target of every terrorist not already occupied with the other threats. Plasma bolts came fast and furious.

Kat winced with each strike. No matter how powerful or invulnerable she was, those damned things STUNG!

"Enough!" she muttered…and disappeared.

_**MVP1-SLSH4**_

Garth was sweating with the effort. He was taking short shots, his lighting bolts tightly controlled to avoid innocents and powered down so as not to out right fry the terrorists. It wasn't that he had anything against killing the scum, but the more the police could take alive, the greater the possibility they could garner some useful information from them. And he was intensely interested n whatever information they could get. Perhaps he could get a line on Mekt…

For the most part, like his sister, he was relying primarily on his physical abilities to take out one terrorist at a time.

Through his peripheral vision, he could just make out the form of the Sentinel to his right as she fired blast after green blast. Not all hit their target but those that did took one more terrorist out of action. Beyond her, though he could not see his sister, he could see her arcs of lightning.

He spotted another terrorist and raised his hands…only to pause as the terrorist's weapon vanished from his hands and he slumped to the ground, his form rippling as, unconscious, he resumed his natural Durlan appearance.

He yelped and stepped backwards as a blonde girl in a red, yellow, and blue suit appeared before him.

She put out a hand to stop him from falling over backwards and then gave him a little shake to get his attention.

"Get to the Ambassador." The girl ordered. "Protect her." She took a look around. "Take the lightning girl with you." She waited until he nodded and then she was gone again, a rush of wind following her.

_**MVP1-SLSH4**_

"Can you do more than shoot blasts?"

"Sweet Athena!" Jensia gasped as the blonde girl appeared next to her. Her reflexes caused her to swing her arms towards the newcomer…and she gasped and then snarled as a hand like a vise gripped her arm.

Kat stepped back, astonished as the green girl exerted her will and snatched her arm out of her grasp.

Her red eyes glowed and green energy crackled at her fingertips.

"Whoa!" Kat put up her hands. "I'm one of the good guys!"

Jensia took in the uniform and then recalled the recent news reports in Metropolis.

"Supergirl." She guessed. Relaxing as the blonde nodded. She nodded in turn, answering Kat's original question. "What have you got in mind?"

"We need to get the innocents out of the way!" Kat explained. "If you can do that, I can take out the terrorists!"

Jensia considered and then shook her head.

"I have a better idea. I know which ones are the terrorists. I'll point them out. You grab them and I can hold them!"

"You can do that?"

Rather than use words, Jensia concentrated and power flowed from her hands. Energy that spun out to form a rippling, topless cage of energy around three of the fallen terrorists.

"That'll do it!" Kat laughed and leapt into the air.

In moments it was over as, taking visual cues from Jensia, Kat snatched terrorists up, disarmed them, and deposited them in the cage. As more were added, Jenisa merely enlarged the energy cell she had created.

Finally it was done. The terrorists, those that lived, were enclosed in the energy cage and the panicked innocents, with the exception of one brave news crew, had made their mad dash to safety.

"Everyone…." Sec-Pol officers stormed into gate area, weapons drawn. "…freeze?" SO Terreli stood at their front, his weapon drooping as he took in the carnage. His gaze took in the chard bodies of the Ambassador's guards and hapless civilians, the sprawled bodies of several terrorists, the green energy cage, and the six youths that stood with the Kryptonian Ambassador. Yet it was the blond girl in red, yellow, and blue that kept demanding his attention. "Supergirl?" he all but whispered, his disbelief apparent.

"Thank the gods that she and her friends were here, SO!"

SO Terreli turned as Santel, her injured right arm cradled in her left, stepped in behind him. She used her chin to indicate the gate area.

"Have your men secure this area until we can arrange for a protective escort for the Ambassador." She ordered.

"Yes ma'am!" the SO stood straighter and started to turn away before pausing. "uh, Ma'am." He indicated the Green girl and the energy cage. "I thought Green Lantern's were forbidden in UPF territory. Should we take her into custody?" The quaver in his voice said he truly did not relish the idea of trying to apprehend a Green Lantern.

"She's not a Green Lantern, SO." Santel locked eyes with him. "She's the Sentinel…the New Sentinel!"

The SO looked back at the girl with wide eyes. Here, right before him, two legends of the past, it seemed had returned to life! Supergirl and the Sentinel!

"Yes Ma'am." He gulped. Everyone with even a moderate knowledge of history knew about the Sentinels. And he knew, had the Commissioner ordered him to apprehend her, he would have wished she were only a Green Lantern. Turning away quickly, he began barking out orders to secure the area. Ten men he specifically ordered to take control of the prisoners the Sentinel held. He made sure he was NOT on that detail.

Making sure the SO was doing his duty; Santel then continued walking until she was standing before the Ambassador of the Kryptonian systems.

"Ambassador Gil-El" Santel bowed low before the Ambassador. "Welcome to Earth. I apologize…."

"Nonsense." Ambassador Sara Gil-El waved away the apology and stepped forward to shake Santel's hands. "This was no more your fault than it was mine." She took a deep breath and looked around before continuing. "I am only glad, for all our sakes, and that of the UPF that this despicable attempt did not succeed."

Thinking of the Daxamite Battle Fleet orbiting the planet, Santel could only nod mutely.

"And…" The Ambassador turned to the six youths that stood near by. "I do believe that we owe these, heroes, a tremendous debt of gratitude."

"That we do." Santel muttered.

They made small talk until an escort arrived for the Ambassador…an escort that was not allowed near until Imra checked them out thoroughly.

"We will speak again, Commissioner Santel." The Ambassador nodded and then turned to Kat. "And you, Supergirl. I do believe that you and I should have a talk as well. As soon as possible!" And with that she was gone.

The prisoners were trotted out into waiting vehicles and the Sec-Pol officers withdrew, taking the news crew with them, leaving Santel alone with the youths.

She studied them for a moment and then sighed.

"Within minutes the public is going to learn of what has happened here." She said. She gestured towards the exit through which the news crew had followed the SO. "And every single being in the UPF is going to see the six of you in action, saving the Kryptonian Ambassador. You're heroes…and you are also going to be targets." She shook her head and then turned away. Over her shoulder she called out.

"Kat, I want all of you in my office in three hours. After you've gotten cleaned up." She paused and then "That is not a request!"

She passed through the exit, leaving the six youths staring at one another.

**Hadly Tower **

**Metropolis Megaplex, Earth**

**6 Months later**

Santel rubbed her eyes, leaning back in her seat behind her desk.

It was late yet the monitors that showed various areas of the tower showed activity as the team on duty returned from a relatively minor mission.

It had been easier than she had thought it would be, she mused. She had expected resistance to the notion from the Amazon Sentinel, Jensia, at the least. Yet not one of the six had balked at the notion of forming a group…a legion of Super-heroes.

Both Garth and Ayla, now code named Livewire and Spark, respectively, had let it be known that they were interested, but that they had their own agenda as well…and a agenda that included locating their wayward brother, Mekt Ranz, and bringing him to justice.

Once she had gotten them to agree, she had figured the real battle would be to get first the Earth Gov and then the UPF as a whole, to agree to recognize the Legion as a legitimate branch of Law Enforcement. The mere mention of both Supergirl and the Sentinel was enough to quell any doubts and garner support.

Her one obstacle had come from a truly unexpected source…The Kryptonian Ambassador! The Ambassador had finally agreed to support the Legion…on the condition that Kat Kent ceased to exist and that Supergirl reclaimed her true name…Cora Zir-El!

Kat…Cora, rather…had agreed with no cajoling needed. As the young woman had confided to her later, it would have only been a matter of time before some bright lad or lass utilized the tremendous technology at their disposal to ferret out the truth of her identity. She actually looked embarrassed when she admitted that it had taken the Coluan, Querl Dox, now code named Brainiac 5, all of twenty-two and a half minutes to discover her entire life story.

Imra Ardeen, code named Saturn Girl, had agreed to join the group readily enough. Already it seemed as if she belonged and more often than not, surprisingly enough, she could be seen to take an active role in the leadership of the Legion.

That had surprised Santel. She had expected either Cora or Jensia to take the leadership of the fledgling Legion, yet neither had seemed concerned and often deferred to the more mature telepath.

And Jensia. The Amazon raised Sentinel! Daughter of Lar Gand, Jennifer Walters Gand, and Arisia Gand. Conceived well over a thousand years in the past and kept in suspended animation, allowed to grow ever so slowly over the years until her birth.

The young green skinned woman had seemed to feel as if she had found a home with the Legion. A place where she truly belonged.

Once they had learned each others' histories, it was a forgone conclusion that Jensia and Cora would become fast friends. Not as close, Santel sighed, as Jensia and Ayla had grown, of course.

Though the entire Hadly Tower and several of the surrounding buildings had become the New headquarters for the Legion, giving each member and any number of future members, their own quarters, it was quite rare to find either Jensia or Ayla alone in those quarters. The two had become quite an item, much to the amusement of most and the exasperation of Garth.

Garth and Imra, for their part, did not even pretend to have separate quarters. Indeed, there was already talk that the two would soon travel to Winrath to be married according to the customs of Garth's people.

Of course, Cora, Ayla, and one of the new members, Luornu Durgo, Triad, were spearheading a campaign for the two to get married right here in the Legion Complex.

Thinking of Triad brought Santel's attention to the newer members of the group. They had started as six but over the months, their numbers had grown as member planets of the UPF offered up their heroes to join the Legion.

Not all were accepted, of course. The six original members had set down the rules and requirements for membership and they stuck to those standards.

Triad, the Carggite that could split into three individual bodies (each with its own unique personality), was one such new member.

And then there was Salu Digby of Imsk. Shrinking Violet. She could, at will, shrink to microscopic size, and Gym Allon of Earth…Leviathan. With the ability to expand his size, proportionally, to extraordinary degrees.

From Orando came Princess Projectra, with her ability to cast massive illusions. And from Rimbor, a rough fringe world, came Jo Nah…Ultra. With, it seemed, every power Supergirl claimed….but only able to use one at a time.

The list went on…Tinya Wazzo of Bgztl, Apparition, with the ability to phase through solid objects at will; Jan Arrah of Trom, Alchemist, with the ability to transmute elements; Dawnstar of Starhaven, with her wings, her ability survive unprotected in space, and her superior tracking and navigation skills; From Earth – Drake Burroughs - Wildfire; Lyle Norg - Invisible Kid, Dirk Morgna – Inferno.

Surprisingly, there was even an applicant from Durla. Reep Daggle – Chameleon. The Legion had kept sensibly quite about his addition to its ranks…oddly enough, Reep had no real ties to Durla, having been raised away from the unrest in space by human adoptive parents. Nevertheless, Santel had insisted on a complete background check and a thorough scanning of his mind by Imra!

From Talok VIII came Tasmia Mallor…..

"She is a very beautiful woman…"

"GaaaH!" Santel shot up from her seat, nearly tumbling over her desk as she spun towards the unexpected voice…a voice she remembered all to well.

"Don't do that!" Santel spat, putting a hand on her chest as if to quiet a racing heart.

Behind her now spinning seat, two faint columns of green mist floated in the air.

One floated closer, as if to gaze at the computer screen which now showed Tasmia Mallor, also known as Umbra, walking down a hallway towards the quarters to which she had been assigned.

"I can see what he saw in her." The voice, soft with memory, emanated from the mist.

"Jealousy?" Santel tried not to snarl as she stopped the chair from spinning by grasping the seat back, her knuckles whitening as she clung tightly. "After so long?"

"Merely curiosity." The misty column seemed to fade slightly and then moved back to float beside the second. "Time is running out." The softness was gone from the voice now. "Cohesiveness is threatened. The Legion must now do what it was formed to do!"

"No." Santel gripped the seat back tighter, not noticing the metal bend under her grasp. "There has to be some other way."

"There is no other way." A second voice, from the other column of mist replied. "Our grasp is weakening. We cannot hold for much longer. It is what you were sent for!"

"Damnit, don't tell me my job!" Santel hissed. "I know damned well why you sent for me. But things have changed. These young ones….they don't deserve this. I…"

"You have come to care for them." The second voice cut in, the tone one of understanding and compassion. "But there is no choice. None at all."

The columns seemed to solidify, becoming translucent figures of two women.

"Arisia…" Santel shook her head as she addressed the second figure. "We can't ask this of these young ones. They are still learning to work as teams…to function as a cohesive unit. And what if they succeed? Their entire reality might cease to exist."

"And if they fail, or do not even attempt, then all of reality will cease to exist!"

Santel turned her head slightly, for it had been the other that had spoken.

"Jenny…"

"This is not right." The ghostly figure of Jennifer Walters Gand spoke. "History has been changed and you know it…for you have lived through the true history. History must be restored….Aisnej and the other must be stopped!"

The figures blurred and merged, forming one misty column and the voice that now issued forth was the two toned voice that she had so long ago gotten used to.

"The one you call Imra is already suspicious. She cannot read your mind and yet cannot detect any mental shield with which she is familiar. The one you call Querl Dox is already researching your history…and is not liking what he has been able to discover."

Santel sagged, her head hanging.

"You must prepare them…if you must, reveal yourself…but you must get them ready for this." The column started to fade and then stopped.

"Be at ease, Mercy." The voice, as gentle as it could be in that strange double sound, "If there is a way, what can be saved will be. Things might change, but we will do what we can to preserve all that can be preserved."

The mist faded and Santel stood alone in her office, tears rolling unheeded down her cheeks.

**End_chapter 4_**

_- Story written and copyrighted (C) 2005 by Dylan Clearbrook_

_- and may not be reprinted without permission._

_- The Continuum Worlds Concept is a joint creation of _

_- Dylan Clearbrook and Eldric. Otherverse, Multiverse,_

_- and Supergirl and the Legion of Super-Heroes, as depicted in the_

_- Continuum Worlds, are original creations of Dylan Clearbrook._

_- Alterverse and The Inheritors, as depicted in the Continuum Worlds,_

_- are original creations of Eldric._

_- The Realm and The Web of Shadows, as depicted in the Continuum Worlds, _

_- are original creations of John P. and Jason G./ Andrew Shields respectively._

_- Terra-verse, as depicted in the Continuum Worlds, _

_- is an original creation of DTO._

_- Some characters in Continuum Worlds stories are original creations_

_- of Dylan Clearbrook, Eldric, Michael Liebhart, Jake H., Jason G.,_

_- Andrew Shields, Kyle M., Brian, John P., DTO, or Jason Froikin and may not _

_- be used without express permission of the respective author._

_- All DC characters are property of D.C. Comics. _

_- All Marvel characters are property of Marvel Comics. _


End file.
